Truth or Dare
by skygirl55
Summary: Richard Castle has been set up to take the fall for a murder he did not commit. (Prompt: What if Probable Cause took place in S4, before Castle & Beckett were together?) Canon through mid-S4.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: My initial idea for this story was, "What if "Probable Cause" had happened in late S4 before Kate &amp; Castle were together as a couple. In my mind, it takes place after Pandora/Linchpin, but before 47 Seconds. There is a secondary prompt I used for this as well, but I can't tell you without giving too much of the plot away.:) There are 14 chapters &amp; an epilogue._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**One**

For Richard Castle, that March day began as nondescript as any other. The chill in the morning air remained too cool to be considered spring, yet the unpleasant frigidity of winter had thankfully moved on. The sun was shining, barely obstructed by a few puffy white clouds, the birds were chirping and he had a text message from Kate Beckett; all signs the day was going to be a good one.

Though it still felt odd to him to classify days beginning with murder as "good" he rationalized it by telling himself it wasn't the gruesome body or life taken too soon that brought a smile to his face; it was her. Chestnut hair accentuated with honey streaks falling in gentle curls around her shoulder. A gentle smile made from naturally pink lips. And that adorable little mole beneath her left eye. Not to mention the way she said, "Hey, Castle." Almost four years, and the sound of his name on her lips still brought chills.

They met in front of a residential building in mid-town shortly after eight a.m. So many of their days began this way: city traffic behind them and blinking red and blue police cruiser lights illuminating their greetings. To others, it probably seemed silly; to him, life would not have been the same without it.

As he passed over her latte, her lips blossomed further and his heart fluttered in his chest, just as it did every morning. Clearing his throat he asked, "So what've we got?"

"Not sure yet." She led the way into the building and toward elevator, nodding to the officer standing guard with the doorman as she passed by. They rode up to the fourth floor with two techs from CSU. Just outside the apartment—4D—Castle held Kate's coffee so she could put on rubber gloves. Their actions, their patterns were so perfected, so well-polished that neither of them needed to speak. They simply acted.

Castle had to admit this part of their routine had to be one of his favorites. The dance of passing cups and gloves back and forth. It was practically choreographed, though neither of them planned anything in advance; they simply anticipated the others movements as they always did. As Castle grew to understand, Kate particularly appreciated this before early morning cases when she wasn't too keen on being chatty.

When they entered the apartment side by side, Castle hung back in the doorway to observe; to take it all in. It was a nice place. Well lit with many feminine touches. Clearly, a woman lived here, and, judging by the lack of any masculine objects in plain view, she probably did so alone. The citrus orange curtains delicately draped the floor-to-ceiling windows, going nicely with the denim toned chair and loveseat set a few feet from them. Those coupled with the green lampshade told Castle that whoever decorated that apartment was not afraid of a little color and he liked that.

Castle took a few steps forward and scanned his eyes for the victim's body, though it was not hard to find; the couching medical examiner in front of the sofa made that fairly obvious. Taking a step around a crime scene tech canvassing for fingerprints, Castle's eyes fell on the victim and instantly every cell in his body froze; he couldn't have moved forward—not even if he wanted to.

Temporarily oblivious to her partner's statuesque state, Kate stepped into the tight seating area of the apartment and spoke directly to the medical examiner. "What've we got, Lanie?"

"Well," Lanie replied, "it's…something."

When her eyes fell on the body, Kate took a half step back to fully interpret Lanie's assessment. It certainly was something.

A woman was placed atop a wooden coffee table in the center of the seating area. She rested on her stomach with her arms and legs pulled back and hogtied behind her. Her entire head was wrapped in what appeared to be green tinted bubble wrap, thus obstructing her face from view.

Kate squatted down and observed the victim from a different angle. The victim was dressed in dark colored clothing, but when Kate crouched she could see slash marks in the side of the clothes across her ribs and possibly over her chest. "Was she tortured?"

"Looks that way," Lanie said. "From the way these marks bled they were done before she died."

"Cause of death?"

The ME shook her head. "Not deep enough. I'll have to examine her back at the lab to be sure, but I'd guess suffocation was the manner of death."

"TOD?"

"Based on liver temp, between midnight and two am."

Kate nodded and stood. In doing so, she realized for the first time that her usual companion was not beside her. Curious, she turned back towards the apartment entrance and found him frozen just behind the couch. Her brow wrinkled.

Castle had been known to keep his distance at a particularly gruesome crime scene, but this one could hardly classify. Odd, yes. Unfortunate, definitely, but it was hardly gory. She doubted he could even see any blood from his angle. "Castle?" she questioned. He started as though her voice had released him from a trance. "You…you okay over there?"

"Wha—yeah. Yeah I'm fine," he told her, forcing a half smile on his face.

Fine? Fine!? He was about ten thousand miles from "fine." But how could he explain his nausea and palpitating heart to her? How could he tell her he'd seen it all before—in his mind's eye.

Blinking rapidly and shaking his head, Castle attempted to get a hold on himself. Surely, this was not what it looked like. He took a step around the couch to get close to the victim, but yet the scene was exactly as it had originally appeared. Dead woman on a coffee table. Bubble wrap around her head. And was that…? Oh god. Not only was she hogtied, but it was with a scarf—a purple scarf, just as he had described. Jesus.

"Yo Beckett," Esposito said as he walked from the kitchen of the apartment into the main sitting area. "We found a purse on the kitchen table. ID says this apartment belongs to Samantha Tanner, age twenty-eight."

"I won't be able to confirm it's her until I take the bubble wrap off back at the lab," Lanie explained.

Kate nodded to her and then turned back to Esposito and his partner, Ryan. "You two start the canvas; Castle and I will look around here." With the boys dismissed, she turned back to her own partner and noticed his complexion had grown a bit pallid. Now genuinely concerned, she stepped closer to him and asked in a softer tone. "Castle? Are you not feeling well?"

"Wha—oh no, I'm fine. Really. I'm going to go look in the bedroom and bathroom," he informed her. _To confirm if my nightmares are coming true_, he added in his head.

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath as he walked towards the rear of the apartment. Typically, he would have noticed things—little things. Like, her apartment was atypically tidy for their crime scenes. As most victims did not pre-plan their deaths and clean accordingly, more often than not some clutter, dust or crumbs would be found somewhere in the apartment—if not full scale messes. This apartment, however, appeared as though it had been surgically scrubbed. Castle, however, did not notice that. All he noticed as he made his way towards the back of the loft space was how loud his heartbeat sounded as it was pounding through his brain.

Pausing outside the bathroom door, Castle took a moment to gather his courage—and his breakfast. It was going to be fine; it was all going to be fine. This was…this was just some sort of horrifying coincidence, right?

With all the bravery he could muster, he poked his head into the bathroom and searched for the mirror above the sink. It wasn't hard to find; like most Manhattan apartment bathrooms it was hardly large enough to turn around in. Directly in front of the open door was the sink. Above it, hung a mirror. Scrawled on the mirror in red lipstick were the words "DIE PIGGIE DIE." Just as he had written them.

Castle could feel the bile rising in his throat and he shut his eyes, forcing it back down. This wasn't happening; this couldn't be happening.

That scene in Nikki Heat—the one with the dead, hogtied woman—had never been read by anyone, not even his publishers. He'd deleted it just a few days after he wrote it when he decided to go in a different direction with the story. He'd done that millions of times before with other scenes, so why was this one haunting him? Why had this one come back around? Better yet, who had brought it there?

Those were questions Castle couldn't answer and ones he needed to put aside for another time. Now, the most imminent question was what to tell Beckett? The whole truth? Part of it? Or none at all?

Sucking in a deep breath, Castle took a step into the bathroom and examined the mirror closer. The words were really there. The spent lipstick tube dumped into the sink—also, just as he had written. His original intention in the story was to have a partial print from the killer found on the lipstick tube; he could only hope that part of the story would come true as well.

"Beckett!" he called out finally, still uncertain of what he would say to her when she discovered the killer's twisted message. "There's something you should see in the bathroom."

A moment later she appeared in the doorway. He took a step to his right and ended up jammed in between the toilet and the shower, allowing her a clear view of the mirror. Her brow wrinkled as she stepped into the room and examined the message. She stared at it expressionless for a moment before turning to him. "Piggy is spelled wrong?"

"Yeah, I noticed that," he said, his voice a bit gravely. _Just like in the book_. At the time, he intended that to be a genuine mistake from the killer—the killer, in his mind, was not as well versed in spelling and grammar as the general populous. It remained simply a piece of backstory he gave the killer. At the time he wrote the scene for _Heat_ that bit of story was completely insignificant. Now, the spelling error taunted him just as much as the familiarity of the victim's body.

Hogtied. Purple scarf. Green bubble wrap.

"Uh," he cleared his throat. A fire blazed across his forehead and down the back of his neck. "You know what, Beckett? I don't think I am feeling well. I think…I think I'm going to go get some air."

Her expression fell into one of sympathy and her tone came out with great caring. "Okay, Castle; I hope you feel better. I'll…maybe see you later?"

He forced his lips to turn into a smile. "Sure. Later. I'll check in on the case." With that, he made his way out of the apartment, not even acknowledging Lanie as he walked past her. He needed air; he needed escape. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

By the time Castle arrived back on the sidewalks of Manhattan, his chest was already gripped in the relentless clutches of anxiety. His left hand pawed at his shirt collar in an attempt to loosen it, but that wasn't possible; the top two buttons were already undone. Resting his forearm against a lamppost, he touched his closed fist to his forehead and breathed in the car-exhaust-filled city air. There was an explanation for this. There absolutely was. He simply needed to find it.

His several minute reprieve returned the tightness in his chest to a normal level and, before any more time could be wasted, he hailed a cab and directed it towards his loft. As the cabbie slogged through the morning rush hour gridlock, Castle reviewed his decision not to inform Beckett of his familiarity with the case. Not telling her certainly added to his anxiety, not to mention the roiling of bile in his gut, but he rationalized his choice by saying that he would tell her before the day was out; he simply needed to gather more information first.

As the cab crept along, Castle's leg jostled impatiently, his heel slamming repeatedly against the floor of the cab. He typically had little patience for high traffic volumes (who didn't?) but that morning was particularly difficult for him. He would have gotten out and started running to the loft if he thought it would get him there any faster. Unfortunately, he hadn't visited the gym equipment in his building for…well, longer than he could remember and thus doubted he would be able to sprint for more than a block, let alone fifteen.

Forty agonizing minutes later, he arrived back on Broome Street and charged his way into the lobby, barely mumbling a greeting to the perpetually chipper doorman. He paced the elevator as it ascended, feeling akin to a lion caged at a zoo. When the doors opened with a ding, he leapt out and jammed his key into the lock of his apartment door so violently in nearly broke off.

Mercifully, by that time in the morning, both his mother and daughter were at their respective schools so he was free to lose his mind and completely unravel without terrifying them. At that point, he could barely keep his own emotions in check, so having to face the worried faces of two red-headed women would have most certainly pushed him over the edge.

Inside his office, he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the loveseat. It slid off and fell to the floor; he didn't notice. He rubbed his hands across his face before raking his fingers through his hair. Think, Castle; think!

Throughout his literary career, he'd written so many murder scenes that he lost count of how many there were. Most of them he remembered—most, not all. Some he didn't remember until he started rereading the chapter in which they occurred. Sometimes, not even until he reread the exact scene. When including all the murder scenes he'd mused about, let alone the ones he'd put to paper and subsequently deleted or thrown away, the number of scenes doubled if not tripled.

For some reason, though, the hog tied woman with a green bubble wrapped mask stood out. He remembered the scene well. His original intention had been to have a killer who enjoyed butchering and torturing women like they were farm animals but ultimately scrapped the story line because he didn't like the direction it took Heat and Rook.

The storyline had been intended for the third in the _Heat_ series and thus he had written it about a year earlier. Written and subsequently deleted it. He knew he deleted it—he _knew_ it. But had he ever written any of it down on paper?

To answer this query, he ran to the closet in his office and whipped open the door. Richard Castle was not always the neatest or most organized individual. He used his profession as a writer—an artist—as an excuse for his eternally cluttered office and messy desk. Putting things in organized, labeled boxes had always been a struggle for him, but years earlier he learned that the annoyance of being so neat an organized was outweighed by the ease of finding things later on if he needed, particularly when it came to his works.

Inside the office closet, the shelves were lined with boxes. Each box was labeled with the name of the story it represented, and the approximate dates on which he began and ended the tale. Castle scanned the shelves until he spotted the box labeled _Heat Rises_.

Any thoughts of neatness abandoned, he whipped the box from the closet and tossed it onto the floor. Ripping through the tape on top through sheer will and determination, he knelt down beside the box and began to examine its contents. He began unloading each notebook, bound draft and napkin with scribbled notes from the box, tossing them every which way when he realized they did not contain what he so desperately sought. That scene had to be here somewhere; it just had to be.

* * *

"Yo Beckett," Esposito said as he and his partner walked into the twelfth. Kate stood in front of the murder board, pen poised against the virgin surface ready to mark down all the facts they had obtained. When Esposito called her attention, Kate stepped back, capped her pen, and turned towards her approaching team members.

"Hey guys. Your canvas turn up anything?"

"Nada," Esposito told him.

"But," Ryan continued, "there were security cameras outside the main entrance; I have tech reviewing them now."

"Good."

"But there's something else," Esposito continued, gazing around the bullpen. "Where's Castle?"

"He went home; he wasn't feeling well. Why?" Kate asked, reaching for her coffee cup. Disappointingly, it was empty.

"Because he's in trouble. CSU found his prints at the scene."

Kate's brow wrinkled. "Really? Where?"

"The bathroom mirror."

She groaned while internally cursing him. _Damn it, Castle_. "He's the one that found that message on the mirror. He must have touched it…"

Esposito's face scrunched with displeasure. "He knows better than that."

"I know, I know," she waved her hand and picked up her mug. "I'll be sure to scold him the next time I see him."

The three detectives walked together to the break room. As Kate poured herself more of the precious brown liquid, she glanced over at Ryan and saw his brow wrinkled more than usual. "What's wrong?"

"It's weird though," Ryan began.

"What is?"

"Well you and Castle arrived at the scene after us, right? About what time to you think it was?"

Kate took a sip of coffee and shrugged. "Around ten after eight?" she guessed.

"Right. Well, according to CSU, they collected those prints at seven thirty."

The wrinkles in Kate's brow began to match those of her male coworker. "You're sure it wasn't eight thirty?" she asked; Ryan bobbed his head. "Well…well they must have written the time down wrong. You know what—actually, yeah. Castle and I walked into the apartment with a CSU tech; they must have written down the wrong time."

Ryan shrugged, accepting this explanation. "Maybe the guy forgot to change his watch to daylight savings time."

"For a whole week?" Esposito questioned, not buying that theory at all.

"I dunno maybe—oh!" Ryan said, glancing down at his phone. "Tech has something for us."

After collecting their coffee cups, the trio headed across the bullpen to the tech room, or "Den of Nerds" as Castle had been known to refer to it. They gathered around the television screen where one of their newest employees, a woman in her mid-twenties named Tory, had a video paused on the screen. According to the time stamp in the bottom left corner, the scene they viewed took place at eleven forty-two p.m.

"Since Detective Ryan said the victim's TOD was between midnight and two a.m. I started reviewing the video beginning at ten p.m. There weren't too many comings and goings—a man walking a dog, a few couples, and then this." Tory pressed a key on the keyboard in front of her and the video began to play. After about thirty seconds, a man appeared in clear view of the camera directed at the building's front door. He was tall with brown hair dressed in a black leather jacket. He pressed one of the call buttons beside the door and, a moment later, was buzzed inside. Once he disappeared, Tory paused the video.

"Now we know this man went to the victim's apartment because he pressed the bottom key in the first row by the door; that's the buzzer for 4D," she explained.

"Can you play it again, please?" Kate requested. Tory nodded before rewinding and replaying the video.

"You know," Esposito began, turning his body away from the screen so he could face Kate and Ryan, "You know who he looks like? Castle."

"Castle?" Kate said with an almost laugh. "No he doesn't."

"Yeah, yeah," Esposito said before turning back to the tech. "Rewind that and pause it."

"C'mon Espo," Kate said, practically rolling her eyes that time.

The three detectives watched as Tory rewound the video and paused it just as the man had his finger poised on the 4D doorbell. At that angle, about forty percent of the man's profile could be viewed and that was the best angle the video had of him. For the most part, he faced away from the camera.

"There!" Espo said, triumphantly pointing towards the television screen.

"That's not Castle," Kate concluded simply, taking a casual sip of her coffee.

"Sure looks like him," the detective challenged.

Kate shook her head. "No…no. It's just…just a tall white guy with brown hair."

"Ryan?" Esposito deferred to his partner for a second opinion.

Ryan nervously glanced between Esposito and Beckett, clearly not wanting to share his viewpoint. Then, as Esposito's expression turned more pointed, he stepped around Tory so he could view the screen more closely. From that angle, if he squinted his eyes, he could almost see his partner's point. "Yeah…yeah, I mean, it kind of looks like Castle. It could be him."

"Ryan!" Kate said, her tone almost scolding.

"Can you make this any clearer?" Esposito requested.

"I can try," the tech responded before tapping away at her computer.

"Guys. C'mon!" Kate stepped in front of them both, positioning herself between the boys and the televisions screen. They were being ridiculous; completely and utterly ridiculous. Yes, if the most basic description of Castle was used—six foot tall white male with brown hair—this guy fit. However, so did several thousand other men in New York. This man was not Castle; his jaw and nose were completely wrong. "It's not him. That's-"

"What?" Esposito challenged before she could dismiss the idea further. "Could be. Maybe the man finally snapped. He does kill people for a living."

Kate's gaze burned fury in his direction. Her tone cut through the air in the room like a knife. "Javier."

The detective shrugged. "He does."

"In books!" Kate insisted, her tone a bit higher pitched than she could have liked. "Not in real life. He could never hurt anyone. Not like this. I…I'm going to go see if Lanie has COD yet."

* * *

When Kate arrived at the ME's office, she paused just outside and took a deep breath. Her so-called partners were being absolutely positively ridiculous. The mere suggestion that Castle—_Castle!_—could be involved in this was sheer lunacy. The man in the video resembled Castle from behind—just like hundreds of other men. Pushing those thoughts from her mind, Kate entered the ME's office; now, she needed to focus on the victim.

"What've you got, Lanie?" Kate asked as she entered. She found her friend standing beside the closest exam table and joined here there. For the first time, she was able to see the victim's face now that the bubble wrap had been removed.

"Well, I can confirm that your victim was the apartment's resident—Samantha Tanner. I can also confirm that the COD was suffocation."

"From the bubble wrap?" Kate questioned.

Lanie shook her head. "No. CSU found saliva remnants on one of the couch cushions. My best guess would be that the killer forced her face into the cushion to suffocate her."

Kate nodded and gazed down at the woman's body. Samantha did not stand out to her as a beauty. Her brows were dark like her hair, but wild and unkempt. Her forehead and cheeks were heavily sprinkled with moles and other blemishes. Her nose was crooked and hooked, almost as though it had been previously broken. "Anything unique about the cuts on her torso?"

"No. They're odd, though. They seem almost…ritualistic."

"Anything else notable?"

"Yeah—there's no trace evidence whatsoever. It's…it's almost like her body was scrubbed clean. Nothing underneath her nails, no fingerprints on her skin that I've found so far."

Kate nodded. "Okay well-"

"Hold up girl—what's going on with you?" Lanie interrupted her friend. It did not take a detective's mind to notice something was wrong.

"What do you mean?" Kate asked.

"Well, first, you show up here sans your usual ruggedly handsome shadow and second, something…something's off. You've got a weird vibe," Laine said gesturing up and down her friend's body with her purple-glove-covered hands.

Kate relented to this criticism, shifting her weight over to her left side. "It's…nothing. It's just…there was a surveillance camera on the apartment building entrance. The guy we found entering Samantha's place just before midnight—he…he looks kind of like Castle.

"So?" Lanie responded with utmost casualty. "Lots of white guys could be Castle from a distance."

"I know and that's what I told Espo, but." Kate stopped and turned her gaze towards her feet.

"Kate?" her friend questioned softly. "Really? You're worried he did this?"

"God, no; no." Kate responded instantly, her eyes whipping up to meet her friend's careful gaze. "I just… I have this weird feeling about this case. I can't explain it. Like, this morning, Castle left the crime scene because he wasn't feeling well."

"So? Maybe he ate something weird for breakfast," Lanie rationalized.

"Right. Totally. It's just…he's never done that before… and now-" Kate was interrupted by the chiming of her cell phone. She pulled it from her jacket pocket and gazed at the screen. _Get back ASAP!_ Read the text from Esposito. "Ah, sorry Lan—gotta go. Let me know if you find anything else on the body!"

With that, she left the ME's office without turning back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Kate returned to the twelfth after fighting the pre-lunch city traffic to find Ryan and Esposito sitting at their respective desks, speaking to each other in hushed tones. "Hey guys," she began as she walked towards them, "Were you able to ID the man in the—what's going on?" she stopped abruptly when the boys turned to her with grim expressions.

"Beckett you should probably sit down," Ryan told her gingerly.

Kate Beckett did not like being told to sit down. Every time someone told her to sit down in such a grave tone she was transported back to that night in her parent's apartment when she was nineteen. Detective Raglan kept telling her to sit down. She didn't want to sit down; she wanted to physically remove herself from her own body. Since that was not an option, she found comfort in the weight of her body in her feet; it reminded her that everything taking place was real.

Her body tensing she asked, "What? What for? What's going on?" When neither man answered her after twenty seconds she looked to the sterner of the two faces. "Espo?"

He took a deep breath. After glancing at his partner reluctantly, he turned back to Kate to explain what they discovered. "We found emails saved on the victim's computer desktop. From the content of the emails, it looks as though they were from a lover—a lover she was fighting with."

Kate nodded and shoved her hands in her back pockets. She did not understand why she needed to sit for this information; if anything, it was taking their case in a positive direction. "So you think it could be our killer?"

"It's Castle, Beckett."

Kate blinked at him, not sure she had heard correctly. "What?"

"The emails are from Castle." Esposito clarified.

His response was so absurd that Kate laughed. "What? No, they're not." Neither man in front of her laughed. Kate felt a hot burning lump of coal form in her gut. Her expression fell into one as grim as theirs.

Ryan stood from his desk and approached her, a few papers clasped in his hands. "WriteRC69 ? That's his email, right?"

Kate's eyes nervously darted between the blue eyes of her friend and the papers he held. "Well, yeah but-"

"Kate."

"No." She took a step back from him. Esposito stood, and she took two more steps away until the back of her thighs bumped against a desk. "No, guys, c'mon. This—this is ridiculous!"

Ryan approached her as though one would a stray, wounded animal. He held the papers out with his arm fully extended so he didn't have to get too close. "Read the emails, Kate."

She refused, shaking her head as her lips began to twitch. "I don't need to read the emails—this is insane. Castle didn't. He didn't. He wouldn't."

Despite her protest, Kate found herself accepting the printed pages from Ryan. Her fingers trembling, she held the sheets with both hands and turned her eyes down to the top of the page. There, clearly at the top, was the message from "WriteRC" or Castle's email alter-ego. The email was addressed to Sam (stanner1990 ) and the subject was "You."

_Dearest Sam_, the email began. _I can't stop thinking about you. The way you feel, the way you taste. Last night was incredible. I can't-_

Kate stopped reading as the bile began to rise in her throat. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. What cruel twist of fate in her job doomed her to read the love letters written from Castle to another woman?

Kate turned to the next page in the packet she held. Not even taking note of the date stamp, she went directly to the email body.

_Sam, I don't understand why you're so upset. At work, Beckett is just my partner-_

Kate nearly dropped the page. Jesus. Oh god, was that her name in this email?

_-nothing is going on between us_, the email continued. _How about I come over and we'll talk about it?_

Violently, Kate flipped to the next email. This one, she noted, was dated the day before.

_C'mon Sam—there's no need to be upset. I'll come by tonight after you get home from work and we'll talk about it. Everything will be fine_.

Kate could feel the tears burning, threatening behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It took every ounce of her being, but she would not cry; she would not cry over this. Instead, her efforts to hold in her emotions only succeeded in making her hands tremble more. By the time she finished reading over the last email a second time, her hands were shaking so violently that the paper rattled audibly.

"Beckett?" Ryan asked gently.

Her eyes shot up to his. "No," she said, shoving the emails back at his chest. "No! These aren't—they're not—they're just-" She stammered so much that no real thoughts came out. How could she think? All she could hear was her heart hammering in her chest and her pulse rushing through her ears. If she let herself succumb to it, she would never be able to remain standing.

Pushing herself off the desk, she paced around to the other side of the boys, reviewing the last few moments in her mind. When something stood out, she stopped walking and turned to them. "Did…did you say they were on her desktop? Not in her email account?"

Esposito nodded. "Right. Tech is still trying to crack into her email and-"

"So they could be fake!" she interjected. Finally—something made sense! "They're fake. I mean-"

"C'mon Beckett—open your eyes," Esposito practically spat at her. "We have him on surveillance outside the apartment. We have his prints inside the apartment. We have the emails."

"No!"

"Look at the evidence!"

"Stop!"

"If this was any other person-"

"No, Espo; no!" Kate's voice rose enough to attract the attention of the other detectives milling around their floor, but she didn't notice; she didn't care. "He didn't do this. There has to be an explanation. The emails—they could be—they're not necessarily…"

"Ok, okay," Ryan stepped in, his tone gentler. "Maybe they are fake. Maybe. We'll know soon."

Not satisfied, but not being able to say anything to the contrary, Kate nodded. "Did…did you tell Gates?"

Ryan shook his head. "No we were waiting for you. We…"

Kate felt her phone vibrate in her back pants pocket and instinctually reached for it, barely paying attention to Ryan's words.

"…we thought you might want to tell her…"

Her phone's screen displayed a text message from Castle. _Need to talk to you ASAP; come to my apt._

The message caused Kate's hear to seize in her chest. This was too much—this was all too much. How…how could this be happening?

"Beckett?"

Kate's eyes shot up and she looked into the questioning eyes of Ryan, who seemed genuinely concerned at that point. "Wha? N-no. I…I have to…" She turned from them and began stalking towards the elevator. They called out her name behind her, but she ignored them. She needed to speak with Castle. She needed him to explain—she needed him to give her a reason. Any reason. And she needed it now.

* * *

Arriving at Castle's loft, Kate took a deep breath before knocking on the door. Castle had to give her an explanation for what was going on—there was no other option. She would put on her interrogator face. She would not let her emotions cloud their conversation.

If—oh, god—if the evidence was true. If those emails were real.

God, she could hardly stand the thought of it. The mere concept made her want to vomit. How could he? Why would he? Betrayal—that was the only word floating through her mind. All these months she thought they were growing closer but really—No. No she wouldn't let herself to go that place. Not right now. Not until she knew more.

Raising her hand, she rapped three times on his apartment door. It opened almost instantly.

Castle ushered her inside, combing his fingers through his atypically disheveled hair as he did so. His shirt collar was mussed, crooked; very unusual for him, she noted. Also, the lines on his face seemed deeper than they had been that morning. "Listen Kate," he began as he shut the door behind her, "there's something I have to tell you. That crime scene from this morning—I…I've written it."

Kate blinked at him, not expecting these words. "What? What does that mean?"

He shrugged and dropped his hands to his sides. "It means I've written it. I…it was a deleted scene for lack of a better term from _Heat Rises _the last Nikki Heat book. I was going to take the book in a different direction—look, it doesn't matter." He held his hands up and shook them gently, dismissing the long-winded explanation.

"The point is I should have told you and I didn't. I'm sorry for that, truly. I was freaking out about it—it was like our first case together all over again, except no one should have known about it except me."

Kate stepped towards him and shut her eyes, shaking her head ever so slightly as she tried to process his words. "Wait, go back—how was this murder similar?"

"It wasn't similar," he told her, "it was exact. The green bubble wrap. Hog tying the girl with a purple scarf. The writing on the mirror in red lipstick."

Kate's eyes widened. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. She couldn't help but wonder why he was telling her all of this, especially since it was, in effect, completely criminalizing himself. "So, where is this scene?"

"I deleted it. Honestly, Kate, I did. It was in a Word document for…I don't know—a few days, maybe? Then I changed my mind so I deleted the whole scene. It was about…five or six pages long at that time. I just spent," he turned to walk into the office; she followed him. "The past few hours going through everything—all my notes for that book, but I can't find it."

Upon entering the office, Kate took note of the mess he had created—the notebooks and printed sheets of paper scattered on the floor. She silently observed the scene for a moment before looking to him an asking, "You didn't save the document anywhere else? Print it out?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. I didn't think that I had, but this confirms it. I always keep my notes together and it's not here, so it doesn't exist. Why?" he asked a bit slower when he saw her hardening expression. "What's going on?"

"CSU found your prints at the scene," she told him simply.

He tilted his head to the side. "Really? Where?"

"On the bathroom mirror."

Castle transported himself back to that moment, though it was somewhat wrought with pure horror, he did not clearly recall touching the mirror. Seeing it, yes. Examining it closer, yes, but he had trained himself so well to keep his hands in his pockets (particularly after Beckett had threatened to shoot him if he didn't). But that had been years ago. He hadn't made a misstep in a while, thought given his distraught state it was possible. "Oh…damn, Kate I'm sorry. I must have…I must have touched it when I got there. I don't-"

"No." She shook her head.

"No?"

"No. CSU collected the prints before you arrived on the scene."

His brow furrowed. "Well, there must be some kind of mistake. The must have gotten the times wrong because-"

"They didn't, Castle." She took a step towards him so she could gaze into his eyes more easily. "Their times check out; they collected those prints thirty minutes before we arrived on scene."

"But-"

"There's more."

The pain he saw reflected on her face unnerved him more than he could ever say. He leaned one hand against his desk to steady himself. "Beckett?"

At a snail's pace, Kate dipped her hand into her coat pocket and retrieved a folded sheet of paper. She pulled apart the folds and held it out to him, displaying the image. "You…You were outside her place last night." The words made her sick to say, but she had to confront him with everything. See his reaction for her own peace of mind.

His face contorting with confusion, Castle gazed down at the page and then back at her. "What? That's…that's not me. Kate—"

"And," she began, proud of herself for how calm and even her voice remained, "they found emails, Castle. Emails between you and the victim on her computer. The tech team is authenticating them right now."

"What are you saying, Beckett?" He took a half step back from her, shaking his head as the pieces fell into place. She was using her interrogator voice on him. She was presenting him with evidence—evidence she clearly believed in. "You can't possibly…I mean, you can't really believe-"

"Believe what, Castle? The evidence? Because right now this—this!" She spat, throwing the picture at him. It fluttered to the ground and landed picture-side down between their feet. The page lacked aerodynamics and thus did not have the effect she anticipated, but the gesture was enough. "This is what I see."

Castle stooped down and picked up the photograph, scanning it a bit closer this time, though he could hardly see with so much red clouding his vision. Furious; he was furious. She raised her voice to him. She used her angry interrogator voice on him. On him! Him! It was…it was as if he was speaking to a different person; this detective was not his partner.

He put the photograph on his desk and turned to her, eyes narrowed as betrayal burned in his gut. "How about you believe me? Your partner. Believe the words that are coming out of my mouth when I tell you this isn't me!" He stabbed his finger towards the picture as he spoke. "This is a guy that—yes, admittedly, looks slightly like me, but this—I absolutely promise you—is not me."

She wouldn't let his tone affect her. She was in cop mode, just like she was in the interrogation room at the twelfth. Her voice even, she informed him, "Right now, the tech team is authenticating those emails and if they authenticate those emails they're going to issue a warranty for your arrest."

The word made his gut churn. This was clearly much more serious than he originally anticipated. "Arrest? God, Kate I-"

"I saw them, Castle." She took a step towards him and, for the first time, her voice began to waiver. "I read the emails, Castle. You were…you were in a relationship with this girl." She closed her eyes when she said the word "relationship;" it was too much for her to bear.

"Relationship? Wha…no—no!" He gasped and stepped forward that time, looking her directly in the eye. He had no idea what the emails said, but from the expression on her face he knew they must have been intimate—and convincing. "Kate, never. I wasn't! I swear! I don't know her—I didn't know her. I'd never met her before."

She shook her head, eyes closing again. "Castle."

"Kate, listen. Listen to me." His voice sounded as desperate as she'd ever heard it. "I wouldn't do this. You know me!"

A tiny mirthless laugh escaped her lips as she turned her eyes from him. "Do I?"

He leaned away from her, his lips pursing and brow wrinkling. "Kate, how can you even say that? How can you even… Four years, Kate. We've been partners for nearly four years and look what we've been through!"

At the loudness of his voice, she turned back to him, though she didn't speak or give away any emotions on her face.

"Everything we've been through together! You cannot honestly stand there and tell me that any part of you truly believes I am capable of doing something like this."

They stared at each other for the better part of thirty seconds, neither of them blinking, until Kate's cell phone rang and broke their standoff. She pulled the phone from her pocket and answered efficiently. "Beckett."

When Kate heard Esposito's voice on the other end of the line, she turned away from Castle and took a few steps towards the office exit. The words she heard were not the ones she wanted to hear, but they did not surprise her at all. After ending the call, she slid the phone back into her pocket and turned toward her partner. The words did not want to come out of her mouth, but they did nonetheless.

"Esposito has the warrant. I told him I'd bring you in."

Castle's chest began to rise and fall at faster and faster intervals. He looked away from her and clapped his hand over his mouth. The burning in his eyes grew stronger and stronger until he could hardly contain the moisture accompanying the feeling. "Beckett please," he begged as he turned back to her. "Please say you believe me."

She turned her eyes towards the floor. "I won't make a big scene about this. If you come quietly, I won't even cuff you. No one in the building his to know."

She looked up to him when he didn't respond verbally. He stood just beside his desk, shoulders rounded, chin dropped to his chest. She'd never seen him so broken; it made her gut ache. She hated this. She hated every second of it. This wasn't Castle—her Castle. But yet, there he stood.

"Castle," she continued calmly. "If you're not going to come willingly then…" She let her voice drift off. Don't make me do this, she thought. For a brief moment she transported herself back to the other times she had arrested him. Back then, she was so annoyed with him it brought her malevolent joy to ratchet steel around his wrists. This time, however, it would feel like cuffing her own heart.

"Kate, please. Please!" he turned to her, his tone beseeching as his resolve to stay a free man returned. "There has to be some explanation!"

She dipped her hands into her back pocket and pulled out her handcuffs. With great reservations she instructed him, "Turn around."

"No," he said, holding up one hand. For a brief, horrifying moment, she feared he would resist arrest and she would need to forcibly bring him in, but then he continued. "No, I'll come. Just…just let me call my lawyer first."

She returned the cuffs to their case and beckoned for him to come towards her. "You can call him from the car."


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Kate Beckett felt nauseous. The elevator doors opened with a chime on the homicide floor, but she didn't want to step out. Stepping out would make it real. Stepping out would bring her face-to-face with a reality she was begging would be a cruel dream.

She glanced to her right at her partner—her friend. He hadn't spoken to her since they left his apartment. She didn't make him sit in the back of her cruiser, so she heard his entire conversation with his lawyer. He simply kept repeating that he was innocent and had no idea what was going on. Listening to the waiver in his voice, the way he sniffed back tears shattered her inside. She knew he was innocent; the man who sat beside her in that seat day in and day out was not capable of this. But still…the evidence told a different story.

"Hey, Castle—look at me," she requested gently as they stood in the elevator still. He did so, though with notable reluctance. "You know I'm going to find out what's going on, right? Whatever the truth is, I will find it."

"Yeah," he said, his voice hoarse, "I know."

Five steps off the elevator they were met by the stern face of Captain Victoria Gates. When she led Castle to the interrogation room Kate remained frozen in her position, unsure of how to proceed. After just a moment, Ryan and Esposito appeared before her. "Tech validated the emails?" she asked sadly.

Ryan bobbed his head. "Yeah…they were from her account. CSU should be at Castle's apartment by now. They'll be taking his computer and-"

"Yeah, I got it," she cut him off. She'd been a cop for long enough that she didn't need reminded of the proper evidence collecting procedure. "Gates doing the interrogation herself?"

Ryan nodded again. "Given everything, she felt that was best."

Kate nodded, shoving her hands down into her pockets.

"C'mon, Beckett; we'll all watch together," Esposito said as he nodded his head for her to follow.

* * *

"Look, Captain Gates," Castle began as he sat in the interrogation room. "I know you may not be my biggest fan, but I promise you whatever evidence you have is-"

"Oh we have plenty of evidence Mr. Castle." Gates spoke with her well perfected sternness. From a manila file folder she pulled out several pages. The first was a surveillance photo like the one Kate showed him in his apartment only it was blown up, brightened and printed on actual photo paper instead of copy paper like Kate's version. "Look, there's a surveillance photo of you outside the victim's apartment just a few hours before she died."

"That could be anybody!"

Gates arched a single eyebrow at him. "Maybe. But you're the one that sent these emails. They came from your email account to hers. CSU is at your apartment right now picking up your laptop. What else will we find on that?"

Castle picked up the three emails Gates pushed across the table at him. He examined each of them like he had examined so many pieces of evidence over the years. He could see why the police were confused. The emails did look authentic, but he had also seen enough over the years to know that an email just like this one would have been easy to fabricate.

Turning his eyes to the body of the emails, Castle began to read. The first two seemed fairly straightforward and very genetic; they could have been written by anyone. The last one, however, caused a tremor of terror to travel down his spine.

Now he knew. Now he knew why Kate had looked so horrified; so betrayed. The third email was intimate and loving. It implied a sexual relationship was taking place between himself and the victim, which could not have been further from the truth. God, he thought to himself. Kate had read this. Kate had—oh, god—she had believed that he…that he… For some reason, the thought of Kate believing he was in an intimate relationship with anyone was far more horrifying to him than the concept of being accused of murder.

"Sir," he said, putting down the emails, "I did not send these emails."

"So you're denying being in a relationship with this woman?"

"Yes of course!" He spoke in a vehement tone. "I'm not in a relationship with her! I've never met her! Besides I could never have sent these emails to her! Not to anyone!"

Gates' brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"It—It means I wouldn't have sent romantic emails."

The captain clasped her hands together and leaned them against the interrogation desk. "Why? Are you in a relationship with someone right now?"

"Wha—no. No. Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Gates echoed, ever skeptical.

Castle sighed and leaned back in his chair. How many times had he been inside this room? Dozens, but somehow it didn't feel like the same room, not anymore. Not when he was on the other side of the table. It felt so foreign; so empty without her in there beside him.

"Mr. Castle?"

He turned his eyes back to Gates. "No, I'm not technically with anyone right now but…but yes there's someone and I would never hurt her by doing this. I would never want to do this. She's…she's enough."

* * *

From the observation room, Kate felt her heart seize in her chest at his words.

_She's enough_.

Could it be? Was it even possible that she was the person of whom he spoke?

Ever since her shooting there had been something between them. Not something, but a future something; an inevitability. In her mind, though she still fought with her own demons, he most assuredly was the person who was enough for her; the person she was trying to get better for. She wrestled with her own hope that he felt the same for her, but listening to what could be confirmation of that fact was almost too much to bear given the current circumstances.

The back of her neck prickling with uncomfortable heat, Kate glanced cautiously towards the two male partners beside her. From the look on their faces, she knew the woman to whom Castle referred was no secret to them.

* * *

"This woman that you're not dating," Gates continued.

"Right."

"Came to name her?"

"Ah, no," he said dropping his chin slightly.

Gates leaned back in her chair, her lips pursed together. "Let's talk about the night Samantha Tanner died. Do you have an alibi for your whereabouts between midnight and two am?"

Regretfully, he shook his head. "No…I was…home. Alone. In bed."

"No one can corroborate that? Your mother? Your daughter?"

God, he thought for the first time. His mother. Alexis. How would they handle this? "No. Ah, I mean, they were home but they would have also been asleep."

* * *

Though Gates' questioning of Castle continued, Kate could watch no more of it. She needed to do something. She needed to prove he was not the man responsible for this heinous act. Every fiber of her being knew he was innocent, but unfortunately her testimony alone would not be enough to assuage his guilt to the district attorney, who only cared about the mounting evidence.

While the boys checked the progress of the CSU team at Castle's apartment, Kate returned to her desk. She pulled up the murder file on the NYPD's computer network and reviewed the information that had been collected in the victim, Samantha Tanner.

Tanner, it seemed, was a loner. She lived by herself and spent the majority of her time working on her master's degree in philosophy. To support herself, she had several part time jobs including tutoring at NYU as well as working in a coffee shop not far from her apartment. According to her manger there, she was a good worker, but mostly kept to herself. On the night of her death, she worked at the shop until it closed at eleven p.m.

When Ryan and Esposito canvassed the building, they obtained very little viable information. Not all the residents in the building even recognized Samantha. Those that did said more or less the same thing. She was a nice, but quiet girl who kept mostly to herself. They did not see her with any friends or boyfriends and did not know much about her or her personal life.

Though she had been a New York resident ever since she turned eighteen and began her undergraduate degree in the city, she originated from Ohio. Her parents and sister still lived there. They had already been informed of her untimely death, but Kate decided to give them a call to see if they could provide any clues as to who would have wanted to hurt her.

Unfortunately, her emotionally trying phone call did not yield any viable results. Obviously, Samantha's parents were devastated at the death of their eldest child. They said they had not spoken to her in over two weeks, but that was not unusual since she was busy working on her thesis. The last time they spoke nothing about her seemed out of the ordinary. When Kate asked if they knew about Samantha's boyfriend, her parents and sister both confirmed they were not aware of any relationship she was in.

"Yo Beckett." Esposito's voice pulled Kate from the trance she had succumb to while staring at the murder board. She stood and faced him as he approached. "CSU found something at Castle's apartment."

"What?"

Silently, Esposito held up a large evidence bag in which a large wad of green bubble wrap was rolled.

A soft, almost silent, "No," escaped Kate's lips at the sight. Her eyes wide with horror, she met Esposito's gaze.

"They found it in his office stuffed in a bag hidden behind the sofa. Along with it they found a bunch of rope and a knife, both of which seem to match what was used on the victim."

"I…I…" Kate's chest heaved under the weight of this new information. She groped her hand behind her until she felt the cool edge of her desk brush her fingertips. She took a half step back in order to fully rest her weight on the surface. With her other hand, she skimmed her fingertips over her forehead before raking them through her hair.

Suddenly, it felt as though the room was shrinking. The walls closing in, the ceiling lowering. She needed to get out; she needed to breathe.

"Beckett?" Esposito asked his paling partner.

"Y-yeah I just…I just need a few minutes. I'll…I'll be back."

With that, she charged towards the elevator, groping for her phone in her pants pocket, her hands trembling so much she could hardly unlock the screen and search for her contacts list.

* * *

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice," Kate said as she entered Dr. Burke's office. Out of habit, she went to her usual chair to sit, but stopped a foot from it. She didn't want to sit; she couldn't. Every cell in her body hummed with nerves and anxiety. She feared if she remained stationary for any period of time they would boil over within her and she would never again be able to rein them in.

"You sounded pretty upset on the phone," the psychiatrist observed.

Kate let out a mirthless laugh. "Pretty upset? Yeah I'm pretty upset." She stopped in front of him, arms folded tightly across her stomach. Staring him down, she spoke evenly. "Castle has been arrested and charged with the murder of a young woman."

Dr. Burke gasped audibly. "My god…" Normally, he was one to keep his emotions and opinions to himself as it was a professional prerogative to do so, but Kate couldn't fault him for slipping this time. The information was undeniably shocking.

"No—no he didn't do it." She was quick to defend her partner.

"You don't believe Castle killed this woman?"

Kate shook her head. "No. I don't believe he's capable of killing anyone. Especially not like this." Without realizing, Kate sat down on the arm of the chair across from the doctor. She rubbed her right index finger beneath her nose for a moment before resting both palms flat on her thighs. "The victim was tortured, her body mutilated. Something…something's going on here. I don't know what, but something."

God, how she wish she knew. She wished she could simply open a book, turn the page and find the answer. Just like she did at the end of every one of Castle's novels. A clear, logical, rational answer. More than anything she wanted that.

Dr. Burke leaned forward slightly. "And…you're concerned you won't be able to find the truth?"

"No." She answered automatically before feeling the need to backtrack. "Well, yes I guess ultimately, but no, that's not why I'm here."

"Then, why are you here, Kate?"

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, formulating the words she was about to say. "The evidence…part of the evidence we have against him are emails he sent to the victim. The emails made it seem as though Castle and the victim were having a romantic relationship."

"You're concerned he may have been?"

She shook he head slowly, but kept her gaze trained down towards her feet. "When…when Castle was being interrogated he—he said there was no way he would have sent those emails to the victim because he was…with someone, well, not exactly with someone, but he said there's someone in his life who's enough." On the final word, she turned her gaze up to meet the doctors.

He nodded slowly before asking, "Do you believe he was speaking about you?" Kate merely blinked at him. Dr. Burke let almost a minute of silence pass between them before he continued. "This has been a reoccurring theme on our sessions, hasn't it Kate? Your concern that Castle won't wait for you, but it seems as though he's implying he is. Is that what you believe?"

She shut her eyes and slowly nodded. It took her another thirty seconds before she could admit aloud, "Yes." As it left her lips, the word felt like it took a weight with it. She believed; she had to believe. She wanted it more than anything she had ever wanted before.

"And how does that make you feel?" Dr. Burke repeated the most infamous line of all therapists.

"Good. Happy." For a moment, a gentle smile played on her lips, but with the gravity of that day's events still heavy on her shoulders, it lasted no more than a few seconds. Her expression fell back into one of strain. "I mean, if he's waiting for me it means we…we might have a future. Together. But not…not if he goes to jail for murder."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

Only when Kate left Dr. Burke's office did she realize it was almost three p.m. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, though given her state of maximum stress she was not exactly hungry. She did not want to eat anything, but knew she had to; she would need the energy and strength to keep going, keep investigating as long as it took.

Not wanting anything too heavy, she grabbed a bagel with strawberry cream cheese and a cup of yogurt from a corner coffee shop. She ate as quickly as she could, focusing on the next move she was going to make. When she spotted a cluster of girls giggling on their way home from school through the coffee shop window her next course of action hit her like a sandbag to the gut.

Alexis. Martha. If they would arrive home and see the loft roped off as a crime scene they would be horrified.

Tossing the remnants of her lunch in the trash, Kate hurried back to her cruiser. Once she was on her way towards Broome Street, she dialed Martha's number, but it went straight to voicemail. Not sure of what else to do, she asked the elder woman to call her when she had a chance, but gave no other information. Next, she dialed Alexis. The girl picked up on the second ring.

"Hi, Alexis; it's Det—Kate," she corrected, figuring keeping thing informal would soften the blow. "Are you done with school yet?"

"Yeah, I'm almost home actually. I-"

"Alexis, ah, can—can you wait for me in the lobby of your building? Don't go up to your apartment." Kate said mostly without thinking. Then, when she heard the words as they must have sounded to the teenage girl, she mentally kicked herself. So much for not scaring her.

"W-why? Is my dad-"

"Your dad is fine," Kate assured her. "He's not hurt or injured, but something has happened. Please, Alexis; I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

Though the younger girl sounded very uncertain, she agreed to Kate's request.

Using the lights on the cruiser, Kate arrived at the loft in eight minutes. She did not find Alexis in the lobby though, honestly, that did not shock her. She asked the doorman if he had seen her and the kind gentleman confirmed that Castle's daughter had taken the elevator a few minutes earlier.

Kate impatiently stabbed the elevator call button until the car arrived, dread once again filling her gut. The elevator doors had only opened an inch on Castle's floor when she heard Alexis's high-pitched voice arguing with the officer stationed outside the Castle residence. "Alexis," she said gently. A fireball of red hair and fury whipped towards her.

"Detective Beckett? What's going on? Where's my dad? What-"

"Calm down, Alexis. Let's…let's go sit inside," Kate said, calmly putting a hand on the girl's shoulder, but Alexis twisted out of her grasp.

"NO! Tell me what's going on!"

Taking a deep breath, Kate gazed down at the girl. "Alexis, your father has been charged with the murder of a young woman."

"What!" Alexis shrieked. "No he didn't! He wouldn't!"

"Alexis," Kate said gently to call the girl's attention. "Right now there is a lot of evidence and-"

"Did you…did you arrest him?" she asked, her tone of voice obviously indicating nausea.

Kate side-stepped this question. "Right now, we just need to-"

"How could you!" Castle's daughter screamed, obviously seeing through the detective's avoidance. "How could you arrest him? Why would you—why!"

The elder woman swallowed hard to keep herself in check as she watched tears stream down the red-head's face. "Alexis, please. You need to-"

"NO!" She shouted before taking off running towards the elevator. Kate chased her and caught her just before she boarded, holding the girl's forearm firmly but not too tight.

"Alexis, please. Please listen to me for one second. Do you really think I wanted to arrest your father? Do you? I-" She stumbled with the next set of words to come out of her mouth. "He is very important to me; you all are. I'm doing the best I can to sort out all of this evidence, but right now I need you to stay calm, okay. Can you please do that?"

Though she was obviously reluctant to comply, Alexis nodded briefly.

Kate pulled her hand away from the girl and nodded her head. "I tried to call your grandmother but-"

"No she has class until four."

"Okay. Well, I can wait here with you until she comes back."

"Shouldn't you be out investigating?" Alexis asked her. Kate merely blinked. "I'll be fine, Detective. I…I'll go to Gran's school; meet her there."

"Are you sure?" Kate asked. The younger girl nodded. "Okay, well when she's done with school you should both come to the twelfth; we'll need to ask you some questions."

Alexis agreed and they rode the elevator down to the ground floor silently. As they parted, Kate tried to think of some encouraging words for the girl, but she had none; she didn't know what to say.

* * *

Kate had barely taken three steps onto the homicide floor at the twelfth before Gates intercepted her and pulled her into her office. She stood with hands clasped in front of her until the captain invited her to sit and they did so together on opposite sides of the desk.

"I need to make sure you're being objective on this case, Detective Beckett," Gates began.

"Sir, Castle didn't do this."

Gates raised one eyebrow at her. "Thank you for demonstrating my point."

"No, sir, I'm serious; he didn't do it. Look…I know you…you haven't known him as long as the rest of us have, but surely even in nine months you've realized that there is no way he would be capable of this." Kate resisted the urge to beg and plead with the captain; she knew that would not win her any points. Yet, she needed to convey what she knew in her heart; her soul. Despite all his misgivings, her partner simply was not capable of this.

Gates leaned forward and rested her hands on the desk. "Detective, I don't generally like to think anyone is capable of murder, yet murders happen every day."

Kate lowered her eyes to her lap; that sentence certainly did not bode positivity.

"Still," Gates continued after a beat, "despite his line of work I agree Mr. Castle does not seem a likely murderer."

Kate lifted her eyes as a glimmer of hope lit in her chest.

"Even more so, he's an intelligent man who spends the majority of his days with the police investigating crime scenes. Surely, if he did commit such a crime he would be smart enough not to hide obvious evidence such as the green bubble wrap so poorly—just sitting in a bag in his office, not even concealed?"

Gates' skeptical tone caused the hope to burn even brighter inside her. "So you don't believe he did this?"

The captain straightened her lips. "What I believe is irrelevant. You know as well as I, Detective, it's the evidence that matters. That is why I'm encouraging you and Detectives Ryan and Esposito to keep digging to see what you can uncover."

"Thank you sir." Kate stood and nodded, but before she could take two steps towards the door, Gates stopped her.

"Beckett. Remember—as it stands now the DA will be pressing charges."

She bobbed her head; as if she needed that reminder. "I know, sir. Thank you."

Upon leaving Gates' office, Kate went directly to Ryan's desk to check for updates. He informed her that Esposito was reviewing the findings with the tech team and would bring them an update shortly. As they waited, Kate told Ryan she expected Castle's mother and daughter to soon be arriving at the precinct and asked if either he or Esposito would interview them. Given the circumstances, she simply did not trust herself to be as objective as she needed to. Ryan, sensing this, agreed with a half-smile.

Just a minute later, Esposito arrived and recounted his briefing to them. He explained that tech was reviewing Castle's computer and they would have a report by day's end. At the mention of his computer, Kate thought briefly about the _Heat Rises_ deleted scene Castle told her about. She hoped there would be no evidence of it on his computer to further incriminate him. Right now, that story was the cold hard evidence she clung to that without a doubt proved his innocence. No idiot—even an idiot who killed someone—would tell such an incriminating tale unprompted like Castle had done.

"CSU found blood evidence in Castle's bathroom."

Esposito's statement pulled Kate from her internalized thoughts. "What?"

"In castle's bathroom they found blood from both a man and a woman. The male blood is presumably Castle's and the female blood type matches that of our vic; they're doing DNA tests now."

"Where in the bathroom?" Kate questioned.

"The sink."

Feeling her world begin to spin again Kate shook her head. "No, that can't…there must be…mistake…" Then again, given all the other evidence piling up, was this really that shocking?

"Listen, Kate," Ryan began gently. "Castle has been asking to see you but…but maybe now isn't the best time."

"No," she shook her head. "I'm fine. I…" But she didn't finish her thought; she merely turned and walked towards holding. She couldn't bear to look at him, but she would. She needed to see his eyes, his face—even if it broke her heart into even more shattered pieces.

* * *

Kate found Castle sitting on a bench in the holding cell, his forearms resting on his thighs as he stared at the floor. Though, in reality, this room was just like all the others on that floor save the décor of metal bars and benches, it always felt colder to her; damper. Like, somehow, this room really was in the basement of an ancient tower. God, she thought to herself; now she was starting to sound like her partner.

She stopped walking about a foot from the cell and exhaled. "Hey."

His head jerked upwards almost as though her words had pulled him from the trance of his own thoughts. He pushed his hands against his thighs to aid in standing and walked over so he stood directly across from her on the inside of the cell. "Hey."

"How are you doing?"

No Castle quip escaped his lips. Instead, he ignored her question and asked one of his own. "Did you…did you hear any of my interrogation?"

She bobbed her head. "Some of it."

He gripped the bars between each of his hands and pressed his face against one of the gaps. "Kate I swear—I swear I wasn't in a relationship with her. She's never been in my place! I have no idea how her DNA got in my bathroom."

Kate bit the inside of her lip; someone must have told him what was discovered, or Gates revealed it during her latest round of questioning. "The DA probably will suggest it happened when you washed your hands after you killed her," she suggested, eyes downcast. The words exiting her mouth made her nauseous. She knew she could plead with the DA all day long, but blood evince would always be paramount to any testimony.

"Jesus, Kate." He exhaled loudly and pushed himself away from the bars. He paced a tiny circle in the cell before turning back to her, determination burning in his eyes. "You don't…you can't…you don't _believe_ that, do you?" he questioned.

She could hear the horror dripping from his words, but still could not bring herself to respond. No, she didn't believe, but her brain had already returned to self-preservation mode. Her iron walls with barbed wire were back. At that point, too many emotions were swirling in her mind to outright confirm or deny his query.

Castle continued, sounding more determined than ever. "Listen to me—I can handle anything. Being arrested. Having to stay in this cell. I can handle it, but the one thing I cannot handle is you believing that I did this. Please, look at me Kate. Please." He begged until she did as he requested. "Tell me you don't believe I did this."

Kate did not get the opportunity to respond. At that moment, she heard Esposito's voice calling out to her from the opposite end of the hall. She glanced to him, nodded, and then turned back to Castle's broken expression. "I have to go," she told him softly. "We're still gathering all the evidence, Castle. You understand how this works; it's a long process."

"Yeah," he said breathily. Unfortunately, he did understand how it worked; all too well.

"Your mom and Alexis should be here soon; I'll make sure they get to see you."

His eyes flashed at the thought of the other important women in his life. "Have…have you spoken to them?"

"Alexis only."

The creased worry lines of a teenager's father filled his forehead. "How is she?"

"Upset. Scared. Confused." Kate informed him; just how they all felt.

Castle nodded. "Right…well, yeah, if I could see them that would be… that would be nice."

Kate nodded and managed to pull up the corners of her lips slightly. Then, she turned to leave, but he stopped her by calling out her name. "I'm sorry, Castle," she said, "I really have to get back to this case; I'll see you later." And, without even waiting for him to respond, she walked away.

* * *

Hours later, Richard Castle sat alone on a cold steel bench. As he had been relieved of his watch when he was processed into the holding area, he did not even know what time it was, but he guessed it would have been about midnight. They had brought him a meal several hours earlier and he'd seen the guards change shifts once after that.

Though she had said she would see him later, Kate did not come back and visit him and by that late hour he was sure she had gone home—not that he could blame her. At least he had been able to spend a few minutes with his mother and Alexis, though he was not certain their visit made him feel any better. He tried to be strong for them, tell them that everything would be sorted out; his innocence would be proved, but saying those words as he watched the terror on their faces did not make him feel as though he spoke the truth. If anything, their expressions disheartened him further.

His final visitor of the evening had been LT, the officer he'd grown closest to over the years. LT was a good guy and he showed genuine sympathy when he visited Castle at the end of his shift. He, like many others, found the damning evidence hard to digest and informed him that Beckett and her team would sort it out—they always did. His final words to Castle were the suggestion that he get some sleep.

Sleep. The mere concept mocked him. How could he sleep when his mind raced? Every scenario. Every theory—even ones he knew Beckett would deem wild and outlandish. None of them made sense. None of it. Who was doing this? And why? What motive would anyone have? How had it even been accomplished?

So consumed with the obsession in his mind, Castle did not hear the footsteps approach, but he did hear the voice.

"Do you know what fear smells like, Mr. Castle? Because, right now, you reek of it."

Castle didn't even need to look up to identify the speaker. That voice haunted his darkest nightmares and had for almost eighteen months. Suddenly, with just that one voice, it all made perfect sense. "Tyson," he exhaled, looking up for the first time.

The infamous killer stood a few feet from the bars, his arms hanging lip at his sides. He was dressed as a beat cop: black uniform, silver shield. Castle squinted his eyes in order to make out the nametag he wore: J. Rook. Terror replaced any amusement he would have found in that.

"Ah, so formal," Tyson said with a slow smile. "You know I prefer 3XK."

Castle stood and approached, staring into the blackened eyes of the Triple Killer. "It was you…you did this. You killed Samantha."

Tyson smirked at the accusatory tone. "Ah, did I? I don't think so. Brunettes, you see, aren't my type."

Castle's eyes darted back and forth as he took a step back. All the puzzle pieces were flying together in his mind so quickly his voice had difficulty keeping up. "You…you hacked my computer…you planted my fingerprints…that evidence…" Tyson had been inside his home. Tyson had been inside the home where his daughter and mother slept. Nausea burned in his gut as he glared through the bars with sheer loathing.

The killer found great amusement in this. "Ah yes it has been quite a pleasure getting to know you—really getting to know you. Going into your house. Going through your things. Thinking about all the wonderful ways I could destroy you."

He took a step closer to the bars and continued. "You see, Mr. Castle, that's the best part for me—the anticipation. The planning." He spoke the word as though it were a fine wine worth thousands of dollars a bottle. "The more I learned, the more I realized just how perfect it would be. Murder mystery author finally goes too far—it's a story that writes itself."

Castle's eyes narrowed. "You…you won't get away with this. Now that we know-"

"Know what?" Tyson retorted. He watched the writer's eyes dart above his head before returning. Above him, he knew, was the video camera recording the cell's occupants at all times, but he had already taken care of that. With a laugh he continued, "Richard, Richard…you insult me. Do you think these cameras are really on right now? Please."

Castle huffed out a short breath. "But…but tomorrow I'll tell them and-"

"And who will believe you?" Tyson leaned in close, his face just inches from the bars. "The desperate ramblings of a guilty man? I don't think so."

"Beckett will," he replied automatically and with full confidence. "Beckett will believe me."

"Will she? Does she? Because, she seemed pretty doubtful and who could blame her? All that evidence…" Tyson shook his head, his expression mockingly serious, but then, quickly, the poison set in. His eyes dilated and a snake-like grin crossed his face.

"No, Mr. Castle, the case against you is rock solid and tomorrow, when you're formally charged, the DA will transfer you. I have people waiting, you see. Waiting for you. I think it's fairly safe to say you won't survive another night behind bars. And then, when you're gone, I'll slip away. I'll get my escape—the one I've been planning." He stepped back and shrugged. "It is a shame, though. I'm almost a little disappointed that I'll miss it."

"Miss what?" Castle asked reflexively, though in truth he wasn't sure he wanted Tyson to continue.

Tyson stepped forward again. "The aftermath, of course. Watching your mother and your daughter deal with your death. Watching Detective Beckett struggle with the loss of someone else in her life; another person she couldn't save." He spoke the sentence as though he were conversing about a delicious dessert. "That would be the best part, you see. The pain coursing though everyone you've left behind."

Castle balled his fists at his sides; it was all he could do not to lunge directly through the bars and clamp his hands around Tyson's throat. "You won't get away with this."

Tyson smiled at him and then turned to leave. As he walked away he said, "Don't you see, Mr. Castle? I already have."

* * *

Kate Beckett awoke with a start. She pushed herself upright in bed, struggling with the sheet nearly strangling her. Why had she woken up? What was going on? Then, she heard it; her cell phone was ringing.

Still unsure of the time, she groped for the phone on the nightstand and answered it with a sloppy hello. The night-shift detective on the other end told her that Castle was hysterical and demanding to see her immediately. Her chest clutched in the grip of fear, Kate asked if he was hurt or sick, but the detective told her he wasn't; he was simply very worked up.

After telling the man she would be there as soon as possible, Kate pushed herself from bed, adrenaline now driving her. She saw it was shortly after four thirty in the morning, which wasn't that bad; her alarm was set for five anyway.

Kate showered, dressed, grabbed a travel mug of coffee and made her way to the Twelfth. Fortunately, at that hour, the city streets were virtually empty and her trip was as efficient as possible. Once on the homicide floor, she found the detective that phoned her and asked what was going it. It was then she heard the sentence that would change the game entirely.

"Castle claims he was visited by Jerry Tyson."

* * *

_**A/N:** Because it hasn't been said recently and I can't say it enough: I freaking love Jerry Tyson. He needs to come back on the show. ASAP!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

"Beckett! Beckett—thank god!" Castle gasped when he saw her approaching the holding cell later that morning. He guessed it was around eight a.m. He'd been brought breakfast, but touched none of it. How could he eat? How could he think of anything other than finding the son of a bitch who was framing him?

"Beckett! It's Tyson—3XK! He was here and-"

Castle stopped when Kate held up her hand to silence him. "We checked the tapes, Castle. None of the cameras were disabled overnight and no footage—not one camera in the whole precinct—shows Tyson."

Slightly disheartened but not deterred, Castle continued. He gripped the bars so tightly his knuckles went white. "Beckett, I swear it—I swear to god he was here. It's him; it's Tyson. He did this—all of this!"

Pushing himself from the bars, Castle paced a six foot line one way and then turned around to walk back the other. "It makes sense—it all makes sense. This is his revenge from last year. He's doing all this to punish me. To show he can still get to me. To…" his voice drifted off when he looked up and found she stared at him blankly. "And…he was right; no one believes me."

Kate glanced tentatively towards the guard at the opposite end of the hallway. He focused intently on his cell phone, so she smiled to herself and took a step towards the bars. She was alone with Castle—or, as alone as she could be given his imprisonment. "I do."

Castle looked over at his partner and took in the gentle smile on his face. Quite frankly, after everything he'd gone through throughout prior twenty-four hours he was too afraid to hope, not without more proof. Almost as if she sensed this, she slid her right arm through the bars, hand extended. Castle reached out with his left and, only when their hands gripped together did he begin to believe.

"Actually," Kate said, "it's the first time this whole thing has made any sense."

Castle felt so relieved he let out a quick exhale that sounded almost like a laugh. "So…so you don't believe I killed her?"

Her lips curled upwards as she shook her head. "No. I never did." He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, her expression falling once more. "But…the evidence, Castle."

"I know, I know." He nodded and took a step towards her. He dropped his hand from hers and gripped the bars as he looked at her, thinking back to his encounter with Tyson the night before. "He…he said he's going to kill me, Kate. He said…he said when I'm transferred there will be people waiting and I won't last another night." He shook his head and looked down towards her feet. Then, when he looked back up at her, she saw an unnerving amount of terror reflecting back. "He's going to kill me, Kate, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Swallowing hard to steady herself, Kate placed a hand atop each of his, her palms resting against the outside of his knuckles. "Listen to me, Castle; we are going to figure this out. We are. We know it's Tyson now so we know what to look for. I know it's hard, but you have to stay strong, okay? Espo, Ryan and I—we're going to figure this out."

He gave her a half smile. "I know…but it's going to take you awhile. I mean, you are missing your strongest team member."

When she caught his implication, her eyes lit with laugher. When his expression mirrored hers, her heart lifted for the first time in almost a day. "You wish," she retorted, gazing at him pointedly. Then, after squeezing his hands one more time, she returned to the bullpen with renewed determination.

* * *

Nothing. They had nothing.

Six hours of diligent research and they still had nothing. Between Kate, Ryan and Esposito they had reviewed traffic camera and ATM footage and all the private security cameras within two blocks in any direction of the precinct they could find, but they still had nothing. There was no sign of Tyson entering or leaving the precinct for the entire night. On top of that, there were no prints or DNA from him at the Twelfth, at Castle's apartment or at the original crime scene. In fact, there was no evidence at all other than the pieces that screamed "Castle is the killer!"

A visibly remorseful Gates had informed them that the DA intended to file formal charges against Castle by mid-afternoon and that time was quickly approaching. Kate couldn't blame Gates or the DA for that matter. They had to follow the evidence, and the evidence was clear. The evidence was wrong, but she couldn't prove it. Tyson was one smart and resourceful son of a bitch; she'd give him that.

Kate had taken her best shot with Gates. She and her two male partners had presented Castle's story to her and given her a brief history of his background with the team, since their initial encounter with him happened before she joined them. Without any evidence supporting their claims, Gates was not as receptive of the Tyson theory, though she did admit that Castle being framed for a murder made more sense than him actually committing one. Still, as she put it, the decision was out of her hands.

As she scanned each and every traffic camera one more time, convinced they'd missed something crucial, Kate found her eyes continually drawn towards the clock displaying in the bottom right corner of her computer screen. Two-thirty came and went and with every passing minute she felt the vice around her chest contract a little bit tighter.

From the corner of her eye, Kate caught movement in Gates' office; the district attorney had arrived. Her chest squeezed so tightly she was surprised her heart did not pop right out of her mouth. It was time for her contingency plan. In her head, she'd formulated several scenarios and dismissed them. In fact, she was running out of letters in the alphabet for each subsequent plan she decided on and then dismissed due to a minimal success rate, but she wouldn't give up; something had to be done.

"Yo." Esposito startled her as he sat on the edge of her desk.

"You find something?" Though she tried her best to keep her tone casual, Kate suspected her long-time colleague could see through her like a sieve.

He stared her down. "Whatever you're thinking; don't do it."

Her brow wrinkled slightly. "What?"

"You know what," he said pointedly. "I can see that look on your face, Beckett; you're planning something."

Kate's shoulders dropped slightly. She knew it would be harder to sneak something past him than past Ryan, but she'd hoped he'd let this slide. Her eyes danced towards Gates's office and the conversing women before returning to the deep chocolate brown orbs of her partner. "I can't let him die, Javi. You heard Tyson's threat. He…he won't make it." The words made her sick to say. If she'd actually eaten any lunch that day she may have vomited it, but fortunately she hadn't had much of an appetite.

"I understand, but you can't get yourself thrown in jail with him," Esposito countered.

Though she said nothing, Kate disagreed wholeheartedly. Esposito didn't understand; he couldn't. He cared about Castle, as did Ryan, but their cares combined paled in comparison to hers. Castle wasn't their life raft. He wasn't the reason they smiled each and every morning. He wasn't the person they thought about every night before falling asleep. To her, he was that man, and if she had to risk jail time to save his life, so be it.

"Detective Beckett?" Gates' voice roused her from her thoughts. Kate looked over towards the Captain. "It's time for Castle's transfer. I figured you'd like the honors."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. I just need one second," she informed the elder woman. Kate with a quick click of the mouse Kate locked her computer and reached casually for her coffee mug with her right hand. It was empty, but Gates and the DA didn't know that. As she pretended to sip, she slipped her left hand into her top desk drawer to retrieve a spare handcuff key. When she put down the mug and stood from her desk, she surreptitiously tucked the key beneath the band of her watch, where it would be unseen beneath the sleeve of her shirt and blazer.

Kate led the way to the holding area with Gates, the DA, Ryan and Esposito trailing a few feet behind her. The key resting against her wrist felt like it had just come out of a coal furnace; it was flame against her skin. She could feel the sweat begin to form at her brow and it took every ounce of control in her body not to move her left arm in any unusual fashion. Getting caught would mean untold catastrophe for her life and career, but it was a risk she was more than willing to take.

As she approached, a uniformed officer unlocked the door to Castle's cell. He stood, but she could not yet meet his gaze; it hurt too much. Though part of her struggled with the right words to say, the majority of her brain remained focused on how to slip him the key.

She stepped inside the cell and he dutifully turned around, placing his hands loosely behind him. With what felt like a fifty-pound bowling ball in her gut, Kate pulled her cuffs from their case and ratcheted one of them around his left wrist. His arm twitched.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he said gently.

"For what?" she asked as she gripped his other wrist and looped the cuff around it. "You have nothing to be sorry about; I'm the one that should be sorry."

"No; I know you did everything you could," he countered. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this. I'd never want to hurt you Kate; never."

Kate skimmed her right hand up his arm and encouraged him to turn back to her. Their eyes met and Kate flexed her left hand down, intent on pulling the key from beneath the watch band while her left hand remained hidden behind his body; however, before she could, a distinctive throat clearing interrupted them.

Kate nearly jumped with the DA said, "Let's go, Mr. Castle," from just a few feet away.

Cursing beneath her breath, Kate loyally followed her partner out of the holding cell. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She had to slip him that key, but how? With the DA hovering so close by, her opportunities were greatly limited.

Upon leaving the holding area, Kate discovered, much to her disgust, that most of the officers in homicide appeared to be lining the hallway on the way to the elevator. She hated Castle being paraded around that way. True, their faces weren't jeering or critical; having known him for many years most of them believed his innocence, but in a way that made it worse. All their sympathetic and tragic expressions made her feel as though she was in a funeral reception line, not at her place of employment.

Finally, just ten feet from the elevator, Kate knew she had to make her move or lose her chance forever. "Wait!" she called out. Gates and the DA turned to face her questioningly, but Kate ignored them.

Kate stared up into Castle's eyes as he gazed at her, curious. She hurried towards him and stopped with her body flush against his. She placed her right hand gently on his shoulder, rose up on her toes, and pressed her lips against his cheek. As she did this, she plucked the key from beneath her watch band with her fingertip and then slid her left hand down into Castle's back right pants pocket. To ensure that he knew she had deposited something in the pocket, she dragged her thumb sharply against the cheek of his ass; somehow, she didn't think he'd mind.

As smoothly as she could, Kate stepped away from Castle and spotted his flummoxed expression. She gave an almost imperceptible nod before stuffing her hands down into her pockets. Neither Gates nor the DA reacted, which meant they had not seen her slip him the key. Good; that was very good.

When the elevator doors opened with a ding, two uniformed officers stepped out and stood on either side of Castle. Guiding him by the elbows, they boarded the elevator along with the DA. When he had turned around and was facing the hallway once more, Castle raised his chin and found Kate's eyes. Staring directly at her he said, "Whatever happens, Kate—I love you."

With that, the elevator doors chimed again and slowly closed. Despite the throbbing in her chest, Kate's eyes remained locked on the elevator for a full minute after the only thing visible was the NYPD logo. When the tremors in her hands and knees began, Kate turned and found herself almost face-to-face with two very remorseful looking men.

"Sorry, Beckett."

"Yeah, sorry," Ryan echoed his partner's sentiments.

"Don't be sorry," she told them harshly. "Just help me find this bastard."

* * *

Kate glanced mournfully at the clock on her computer screen. 4:47 pm. The work day was nearly over. Technically, since in thirteen minutes her shift would have begun twelve hours earlier, she could have been on her way home, but she refused this notion. She would work all night if she had to. The countdown clock on Castle's life began the moment the elevator doors shut (which, as it happened, was the moment after Castle professed his love for her in front of the entire homicide department of the twelfth precinct, but for the sake of her mental clarity she was ignoring that fact at the moment.)

"Ryan!"

Ryan's head poked up from behind his computer screen and he responded, "Yeah Beckett?" Both he and Esposito were still on the clock out of loyalty for their fourth team member, but from the looks on their faces Kate had known for over an hour they were skeptical any new evidence would turn up.

"Have we checked the ATM footage from around Castle's apartment? Or any private security cameras? Tyson would have had to sneak into his building sometime to plant that evidence."

"Yeah, ah, ATM cameras are clean, but I'm still waiting for some of the private footage to come in," he told her.

"Okay well-"

"Detective Beckett." Captain Gates interrupted Kate's thoughts.

She stood slowly from her desk and gazed at the dark haired woman. "Yes, sir?"

Gates removed her glasses from the bridge of her nose and approached the senior detective slowly. "I have just received word that Mr. Castle never made it to central booking."

"R-Really?" Kate responded. _Thank god_.

"How is that possible?" Esposito chimed in.

"I don't know," Gates said, her eyes never leaving Kate. "Detective, do you have any idea how that might have happened?"

"How could I, sir?" Kate replied. "I haven't left my desk for the past two hours."

"None of us have," Ryan added. Kate turned her eyes towards him and blinked slowly, offering a subtle thank you for backing her up.

"I see," Gates said, glancing at each team member individually. Her tone remained skeptical. "Well, the DA has classified him as an escaped fugitive. I trust that if he contacts any of you, you will do your best to apprehend him."

"Of course, sir," Kate responded, fighting the urge to smile. Classifying Castle as a fugitive was bad, but certainly far better than having him trapped in gen pop where a hired killer awaited.

When Gates walked away, Kate plunged her hand down into her pocket to retrieve her phone. It had been over an hour since she looked at it. If Castle used her key to escape, she had a feeling he would be contacting her in some way. Or, at least, she hoped he would. When she discovered a text message from an unknown number on her phone, she fought the urge to smile once more.

_The first time I told you about apples_.

Huh? What in the hell did that message mean? Kate's brow furrowed as she stared down at her phone. It was from him, no doubt, but apples? What did fruit have anything to do with—oh! Oh! His stupid safe word. He jokingly mentioned it to her when she was having him arrested for stealing her evidence during their very first case together. That arrest had taken place in the New York Public Library and she was willing to bet he was holed up there.

Quickly locking her computer, Kate grabbed her blazer from the back of her chair and hurried towards the elevator. She'd barely made it to the hallway before she heard Esposito's voice behind her.

"Beckett, stop! Stop!"

She turned to him, but said nothing. He jogged towards her and stopped just a foot from her, Ryan trailing a few steps behind. Lowering his tone, Esposito questioned, "You helped him escape, didn't you?"

Kate blinked at him, her expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Esposito groaned and lifted his chin to the ceiling. "C'mon Beckett, what are you doing? This isn't the way to do this. This is-"

"Go." Ryan interrupted his partner's protests. "We'll cover for you. Go."

Kate gave him a half smile and a nod as a thank you before hurrying off towards the elevator.

* * *

At that time of the afternoon, traffic getting across town was positively excruciating. At several points, Kate nearly pulled her weapon from its holster and shot her way through the crowd, but she managed to make it to the library by six. She fought every humming cell in her body as she walked through the library entrance. She couldn't run without attracting curious eyes, so she forced herself to walk—well, speed walk.

When she entered the study room in which she found him so many years before, her eyes desperately scanned the crowd. School children milled about, college students studied with headphones on, and an elderly woman sat in a corner reading a newspaper, but her partner was nowhere to be found. Disheartened but refusing to give up, Kate scanned the room twice more before she spotted him, concealed in a corner wearing a blue Mets cap. Relief surging through her, she hurried across the room.

He spotted her on approach and stood, a smile forming across his face. A foot from him, she practically leaped, throwing her arms around his neck. She could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest when his arms closed around her and her heart swelled so much she thought it might burst right through her chest. In that moment she knew that they would be okay. They were together and together they could solve anything.

"Glad you understood my message," he said gently in her ear.

Reluctantly, Kate pushed herself from him and they both sat as casually as they could at the nearest table, trying not to arise any suspicion. "Did anyone see you? Were you followed here?" she questioned.

Casually adjusting the baseball cap, he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Kate." His eyes focused only on her. "You…you slipped me the key to the handcuffs…how did you expect me to get out of the back of a locked police cruiser?"

A slow smile spread across her face. "Well you did, didn't you?"

He laughed. "No. Those officers were plants. The real transfer paperwork was 'lost,'" he explained with air quotes before smiling at her. "But I do appreciate the gesture of giving me the key."

She shook her head and looked down at her hands. In hindsight, it was not the best plan seeing as it only got him out of the cuffs. "It was…ah, it was all I could think of at the time—wait," she stopped herself when something he said registered in her brain. Wide-eyed, she looked up at him. "Those weren't real police officers?"

He shook his head while holding up his hand, palm out. "The less you know the better. Look, we just need to find Tyson, okay? He's got to have some sort of lair somewhere."

"A lair?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, villains have lairs."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Alright well we have to get out of here before someone sees you. C'mon—we'll go back to my place."

She stood and turned to leave, but then noticed he wasn't following her. Turning back, she eyed him curiously and he stood, though in a much slower and deliberate way. "Kate, I can't put you in that kind of position."

Feeling momentarily singed as though he was questioning her loyalty she took a step towards him so that their faces were only inches apart. "And what's the alternative, Castle? You getting caught and sent to prison where you'll be-" She cut herself off, unable to speak the words. After shaking her head to rid her mind's eye of the image of Castle bleeding and beaten on a concrete prison floor, she locked eyes with him. "That's not an option."

Still, he protested. "Kate."

"Just stop, Castle. This isn't a discussion; I won't lose you, too."

Knowing her tone was not one to be argued with, Castle agreed, though with some hesitation. Together, they made their way out of the library, keeping their heads ducked low. Inside her cruiser, Castle pulled the brim of his baseball cap as low as he could and kept his forehead pointed towards his lap as they drove. They took the back entrance into her building and neither of them breathed easily again until they were behind her locked apartment door.

Inside Kate's place, Castle removed his hat and combed his fingers through his hair. He took four steps into the kitchen before he stopped walking and his shoulders noticeably dropped.

Taking note of his change in body language, Kate approached him gently. He turned at the sound of her nearing footsteps and her heart clenched in her chest when she saw his face; she had never seen him so sad.

"What if…" His voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat before continuing. "What if we don't find him, Kate? What if-"

"Hey," she cut him off, refusing to hear such talk from him. Though she would never admit it, it terrified her. He was the optimist. He was the one who always believed they would find the answers. She wasn't sure she could be the one with unshakable faith, but for him she would have to try. "It's going to be okay, Castle."

He looked away, obviously not believing her. Since she knew any words she could come up with would fail to comfort him, she instead reached out her right hand and touched the side of his face, forcing him to look back at her. Wounded and broken, his eyes met hers and she reached out a second hand, stroking her thumbs gently over his stubble-covered cheeks. After just a moment she felt his hands settle at her waist and, through an unspeakable force, she stepped towards him until their foreheads bumped together.

In the middle of her kitchen, they stood sharing the same breath. It was, quite possibly, the most intimate position they had ever been in, though neither acknowledged it. They both knew the stakes; there was no need to speak them aloud. Instead, they mutually agreed through silence to take that moment together. Partners.

Always.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"What we need now is a plan," Castle concluded wisely. They stood facing each other at opposite ends of the kitchen in Kate's apartment not ten minutes after they arrived.

"No," she countered, "what we need is food. I'm starving Castle and you must be too. We're no good to anyone if we pass out from hunger."

Castle conceded to this point. Now that he was not actively fearing for his life and once again breathing fresh air, he did notice the distinct emptiness in his gut. Come to think of it, he was actually quite ravenous.

They agreed pizza would be the simplest and Kate pulled out her phone to order it for delivery. Upon doing so, she noticed she had several dozen missed text messages, most of which were from Esposito. The most recent was from twenty minutes earlier and it read, _You'd better fucking call me ASAP!_

Cringing at the message, Kate ordered their meal efficiently before dialing her colleague's phone number.

"Took you long enough," Esposito answered the call, obviously deciding upon abandoning pleasantries.

"What's up?" she asked as casually as she could.

"What's up?" he repeated mockingly. "Well, everyone at the precinct is running around like crazy trying to catch a fugitive. Gates keeps asking us where you are, but we managed to tell her you didn't feel you could appropriately focus on the case so you went home; she seemed to believe us."

"Thanks Espo."

"Don't thank me yet. Is he with you?"

"Is who with me?" she replied innocently.

"Cut the bullshit, Kate," Esposito snapped. "Is. He. With. You?" He spoke each word as though they were their own individual sentence.

Kate's eyes darted towards the man eyeing her curiously from his position beside the stove. "Yes."

"Am I to assume you're someplace safe?"

"Yes," she repeated.

"Good. Unfortunately, since we have to pretend to be dedicated to finding your boy, we can't keep looking into Tyson. At least, for now."

"I understand; we'll take care of that," she told him.

"Good. And we'll keep everyone off your scent as long as we can. FYI—the DA is out for blood. Tell your partner he's going to owe us some serious Ferrari time when this is all over," Esposito said pointedly.

"I'll pass that along." After requesting that he keep her in the loop with any new developments, Kate ended the call and looked at Castle. "Esposito's going to want to borrow your Ferrari."

"What?" Castle squeaked. "What for?"

She smiled gently. "As payment for not turning you into the DA, I suppose."

Castle scoffed. "So much for being partners… I suppose you'll want a turn at the Ferrari too?"

"No," she said slowly. "We'll need to work out another form of payment."

At her words, Castle did a double-take in her direction. Her tone implied…but surely she didn't—no, of course she didn't! But, she was smiling at him, so maybe…

"So, ah," She cleared her throat. "You mentioned something about a plan?"

"Right, right," Castle said, putting his head back in the game. "I was thinking about this when I was in that cell—we need a really obscure way to get at Tyson. Of course he's not going to leave fingerprints or DNA behind, but the guy isn't a ghost. He had to leave some trail. And then it hit me—that picture of the guy ringing Samantha's apartment doorbell the night she died."

"The security cam footage?" Kate questioned.

Castle nodded. "Yeah! The guy really looked like me, right? But it wasn't me. So where do you find someone who looks like you, but isn't you?"

"Wha…I…" Kate stammered. Her head was clouded with hunger and fatigue now that the adrenaline from earlier that day had worn off. Her gas tank was, unfortunately, very close to the "E" mark. "I…I dunno, Castle. The doppelganger store?"

"Ah!" he held up an index finger. "Very close. You hire an impersonator!"

"An impersonator?" she repeated dully.

"Yeah, yeah—totally. They have tons of impersonators: celebrities, politicians, historical figures. This one time, one of my neighbors in the Hamptons threw a Fourth of July party and he had a Thomas Jefferson and George Washington impersonator. It was actually super weird now that I think about it… The dude who played Ben Franklin was totally creepy and inappropriate and actually-"

"Castle! Focus!" Kate groaned.

"Right, right—sorry. Anyway, I'd be willing to bet that somewhere in this city there is a company that hires out Richard Castle impersonators," he concluded with a smile.

Kate considered this. Theoretically it made sense, but practically… "You really think there's a high demand for that?"

He pulled his lips to the side, tilted his head and looked at her as if to say "Really?"

"Okay, okay," she relented. "Let's start googling…"

With Castle on her tablet and Kate on her laptop they began searching New York directories for companies that hired out impersonators. Much to Kate's surprise, there was more than just one or two. Then again, most of them were casting agencies that managed Broadway actors as well as impersonators. As they ate their pizza, they sorted through the list to find the places that were still open at that time of the evening. When they found one with evening hours, Kate would call and inquire about a Richard Castle look-alike.

Unfortunately, the first eight places she called did not fit the bill. Seven of them had never heard of Castle before (much to his displeasure). The eighth had, but did not currently employ anyone fitting his description. Finally, she hit pay dirt on place number nine.

Not only did Showtimez Casting have a Richard Castle on their roster, but the woman answering the phone seemed surprised by the fact that this would be his second inquiry in a week. Struggling to suppress her excitement, Kate wasted no time in switching her demeanor to cop mode. She informed the woman that she was a homicide detective and needed to speak to Benny Katz (aka Richard Castle) as soon as humanly possible. After scribbling Benny's address on the top of their pizza box, Kate ended the call with a smile.

"Great! Let's go!" Castle said as he stood, wiping the pizza crumbs off his hands and onto his jeans.

"Slow down there, Harrison Ford; you're not going anywhere," she told her fugitive friend.

An expression reminiscent of a child being told he could not go out and play on a beautiful sunny day crossed his face. "But!"

"No way, Castle; you have to stay here."

"C'mon Beckett-"

"Nope," she said, picking up her jacket from where she had tossed it at the end of the sofa. "And you had better still be in this apartment when I get back. I didn't risk my job trying to break you out only to have you gallivanting off and getting yourself arrested by a beat cop who wants to be a hero."

"Fine." He pouted, flopping down on the couch with a grunt. Rolling her eyes slightly, Kate picked up her keys and her weapon before heading out the door.

* * *

Benny Katz was…an interesting character. He did indeed resemble Castle. Not to Kate's trained eye, but she could tell how others unfamiliar with every curve of Castle's face could make the mistake. His voice, however, thick with a Brooklyn accent was a dead giveaway to his true identity.

Unfortunately, he could not provide Kate with very much assistance on locating Tyson. Katz reported that a man matching Tyson's description hired him to ring the doorbell of apartment 4D on the night of Samantha's murder. He was told to go inside, wait twenty minutes in the lobby, and then leave out a back exit. For this, he was paid five hundred dollars in cash. Benny admitted to Kate that he found this job very odd, but he was—in his own words—desperate for money and couldn't turn down such an easy job.

After collecting Katz's contact information just in case she needed it later, Kate returned to her apartment and reported the not-so-great news to her partner. Though she could tell he was listening to her, he was also doing much more yawning than talking. With a sympathetic smile she said to him, "Why don't you just go to bed, Castle?"

"Wha?" he said though another yawn. "No, no I'm fine. Maybe I'll just have some coffee or-"

"Castle, c'mon. You look exhausted. Just go to bed. You can take mine."

"Oh," his eyes widened as he looked at her. "No, Beckett really I'm fine. I can't take your-"

"Castle," she stopped him, her tone firm. "I won't take no for an answer. You spent last night in a jail cell; you're taking my bed."

The gentleman inside him wanted to protest, but his aching back provided a convincing argument to the contrary. He submitted with a nod and pushed himself up from the couch. When he stood, he realized just how heavy his legs felt. God, he was getting old if he was this exhausted at nine-thirty at night.

Kate led the way to the bathroom in her apartment where she provided Castle with a washcloth and toothbrush to use. As he used the bathroom, she quickly stripped the bed and put on a fresh set of sheets. She had obviously not been expecting a houseguest, but fortunately she had done laundry just a few days earlier so her linen closet was stacked full of clean items.

After bidding her partner goodnight, Kate returned to the living room and logged into her computer at the precinct remotely from her laptop. Now that she knew where and when Tyson met with Benny Katz, perhaps she would be able to pull security camera footage from that area and catch Tyson going to or leaving from the meet. Unfortunately, at that hour, the best she could do was put in a request and hope the morning brought a resolution.

Shortly after midnight, Kate was still slogging through her computer searching for leads but she had not honestly been focusing for the prior hour. Simply put, she was completely drained. Though it felt wasteful to sleep, she knew a few hours would bring her more clarity. Besides, it wasn't as though she could interview anyone at one a.m.

Her eyes heavy, she shuffled into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and washed off her makeup on autopilot. She retrieved her pajamas off the hook behind the bathroom door and pulled on the leggings and oversized t-shirt before dumping her work clothes into the hamper. Still not thinking, she shut off all the lights and shuffled her way into her bedroom.

Kate was just a foot from her bed when the sounds of heavy breathing hit her ears. Oh, right. Castle was in her bed. She needed to sleep on the couch.

Sighing to herself, she tip-toed to the far side of the bed to grab a pillow. Through the city lights filtering in around the edges of the window blinds she could clearly see that Castle was sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door leaving a clear space for her to lie in. For a moment, she considered this.

Would Castle really mind if she shared the bed with him? No, her subconscious, cheeky from lack of sleep, responded; he might actually prefer it. She glanced tentatively at the clock; it was just before one a.m. Her alarm was set for five. Four hours to sleep.

_Screw it_, she thought to herself and put one knee down on the mattress. She sunk down, sloppily covered herself with what remained of the blanket (Castle, as it happened, was a sheet-hog), and fell almost instantly to sleep.

* * *

The shrill ring of a cell phone tore Kate from slumber.

"Wh-whasit-where-wha-"

The sleepy stammering's of her bed companion were the next thing she heard.

"'s just the phone, Castle," she grumbled, pushing herself upright. She pulled the device from her nightstand and pressed it to her ear, answering with a garbled, "Det'ive Beck't."

"Beckett," Esposito's voice filed her ear. "Someone spotted a man matching Tyson's description leaving a warehouse in queens; I'll text you the address. Ryan and I will meet you there."

"Got it," She responded, throwing the blankets off her body. "We'll see you there."

Kate shuffled her way around the bed and flicked on the lamp on the opposite nightstand. She blinked rapidly until her eyes adjusted and they fell on her partner, who sat upright in bed, squinting. As her eyes adjusted, Kate could see that he wore his undershirt and boxers, but nothing else. "Tyson?" he asked.

"Possibly. Espo and Ryan are meeting us."

"Kay," he said through a yawn. Then, he looked at her curiously.

"What?" she asked, feeling moderately self-conscious for the first time.

"Were you in bed with me?"

She turned on her heel and ignored his question. "C'mon—get up; I'll make the coffee."


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Shortly before five a.m., Kate's cruiser joined Ryan's parked in front of an abandoned warehouse in Queens. She and Castle had made good time at that hour, but nothing short of a teleportation device would have made their trip any easier; both were too anxious to even speak as they drove.

"So what've we got?" Kate asked as she and Castle approached the two men waiting by their vehicle.

"A beat cop doing a routine canvas of the area spotted lights on the top floor of this abandoned warehouse," Esposito explained, gesturing to the building behind them. From street level, it was clear light emanated from several top floor windows, though it was mostly obstructed presumably from boards or tarps covering the windows from the interior.

"He came in to investigate," the detective continued, "and that's when he saw our guy fleeing the scene. He pursed on foot, but was unable to catch the suspect. When he called it in, he actually told dispatch that he thought the escaping man was Castle."

"Me?!" Castle interjected. "Tyson and I look nothing alike! How could he possibly-"

"Dude," Esposito interrupted him. "White male with brown hair running—at that point you all look the same."

"Anyway," Ryan continued. "When we talked to him and got the real description we figured it might be Tyson so here we are."

Castle took a step back and observed the building. "Well, this could definitely classify as a lair."

"Let's just go check it out," Kate suggested.

After donning their vests and pulling their weapons, the four of them entered the building, clearing each of the first three floors before making it up to the top level, where the glowing lights could be more clearly seen from the stairwell. Esposito led the way, hugging the wall as they made their way past hanging plastic tarps and broken sheetrock walls. At the end of the hall, he entered one of the only intact rooms and emerged a minute later. "Clear. And you're definitely going to want to see this."

Ryan, Kate and Castle piled into the room and immediately three pairs of eyes widened. One entire wall of the room could easily be described as a mural dedicated to Castle. Headshots, newspaper clippings and magazine articles lined one whole section. Another area contained what appeared to be surveillance photos: Castle and Beckett walking down the street, Castle and Alexis leaving their apartment building, Castle and Martha eating in a café, and interior photos of the loft including Castle's bedroom and bathroom.

"Well, this is kind of fucked up," Esposito concluded wisely.

Castle gave him a sideways glance. "Thanks; that's helpful."

The detective shrugged. "Just saying…this guy seriously hates you."

"Guys, look at this," Kate said, gesturing towards the final section of the wall of horrors; the one dedicated to Samantha Tanner. The photos of her were similar to those of Castle: surveillance style shots of her doing day to day things, plus detailed pictures of the interior of her apartment.

"Well, this should be enough evidence to clear you," Ryan said, clapping Castle on the back. Then, he excused himself to call Captain Gates.

While they waited, Kate and Castle continued to go through the collection of bizarre evidence in the room. Among the items in a rusted filing cabinet they found the layout drawings for both Castle's apartment building and Samantha Tanner's. In addition, they found Samantha's class and work schedules. Finally, stuffed in a bottom drawer, they discovered the police officer uniform—complete with "J. Rook" nametag—Tyson had used to sneak into the precinct.

"You realize we're not finding any of this by accident, right?" Castle said as he looked over at Kate, faux officer's shirt in his hands. "Tyson left this here for us. He wanted us to find it."

Kate sighed. "Castle-"

"No, I'm serious. Think about it Kate. He planted my fingerprints at a crime scene. He uncovered information from a document I deleted a year ago. He snuck into an NYPD precinct one hundred percent undetected, yet he leaves all of this stuff out in the open?" Castle did not believe for one second this was an accidental discovery; Tyson wanted them to find this payload.

"It's not as though he mailed it to us," Kate countered. "Besides, why do any of this? What was the point?"

"To torture me," Castle concluded. "He just-"

"Mr. Castle!" Gates' voice boomed when she entered the room, startling both Castle and his female partner. Castle turned to face her, the officer's shirt still hanging limply in his grasp, and he swallowed hard. She folded her arms as she approached and narrowed her eyes at him. "Why am I not surprised to see you here?"

"Well, um, I-" He stammered, though nothing significant exited his mouth so Gates continued.

"I don't suppose you arrived here with any of these law abiding detectives?"

That time, Castle managed to form a full sentence. "Of course not, sir."

"No, sir," Kate chimed in, repeating the story they'd cooked up while waiting for her arrival. "We found Castle when we arrived here."

Gates turned her head slowly towards the female detective. "You did?" She then looked over towards Ryan and Esposito who stood side-by-side, nodding.

"Weird coincidence…" Esposito added with a shrug.

Gates arched an eyebrow. "I'm sure."

Kate stepped forward to address the captain directly. "Sir, as you can see here with these pictures and drawings, someone was trying to frame Castle for the murder of Samantha Tanner. I'm hoping that when CSU goes through this place they'll find DNA or fingerprints belonging to Jerry Tyson."

Gates observed the wall of photos for several moments before posing the question, "And how do we know Mr. Castle didn't create this room himself?"

"Why would I have someone take surveillance photos of me?" Castle inquired.

Gates turned to him, her gaze suspicious. "I don't know, Mr. Castle. Maybe so you could create this room and defer attention from yourself. That way you could still commit the murder and also have reasonable doubt."

Castle blinked at her slowly. "Sir, let's be honest; I'm not that smart."

"That's not all, Captain," Kate said, stepping around her partner. "Benny Katz."

"Who?"

"The man in the surveillance camera photo. He's a Richard Castle look-alike. I interviewed him last night and he's willing to testify that a man matching Tyson's description hired him to go to Samantha's apartment that night and ring the doorbell."

When the CSU techs arrived, the four detectives and captain waited in the hallway. The first set of fingerprints CSUV found—ones on top of the rusted filing cabinet—matched the prison records of Jerry Tyson. With this inarguable evidence, Gates turned to Castle with an approving nod.

"I guess you were telling the truth, Mr. Castle. I'd say it's safe to assume that with all this evidence the charges against you will be dropped. Though, there is that little matter of you escaping police custody."

Castle grimaced. "Well, Sir-"

Gates held up her hand. "Save it; I don't want to hear any of your tall tales. I think given everything we can negotiate your sentence down to time served."

Castle smiled at her and nodded. "Thank you, Captain." Then, he turned towards Kate, who was wearing a similar grin. For some reason, it wasn't until he spotted her happy expression that he truly processed what had just happened; he was free.

"C'mon Castle let's-"

"Detective Beckett?" Gates interrupted her. "A word?"

Kate nodded. She instructed her partner to wait for her by the car and then followed Gates to an empty room in the abandoned warehouse. Speaking in hushed tones, Gates said, "Don't think I don't know what's going on here. Thought I can't quite figure out how, I'm certain you have somehow aided Mr. Castle over the previous twenty-four hours."

Kate felt her face begin to flush. She had been so focused on freeing Castle that she failed to consider the ramifications for her. She attempted to come up with a good cover story on the fly, but it quickly appeared she didn't have to, because the corner of one of Gates' lips pulled upwards.

"But don't worry, Detective; I won't pursue it."

With a quick exhale of relief through her nose, Kate bobbed her head. "Thank you sir. I'm sure you can understand doing whatever it takes for your partner."

"Right," Gates said, her eyes drifting back towards the hallway. "Your partner."

Of course, Kate did not catch the suspiciousness of Gates' tone; she merely thanked her superior and left the building as quickly as she could. She joined Castle by her squad car and smiled at him. "It's over."

"Is it?" he replied, his expression joyless. He gazed up at the fourth floor of the warehouse and then back at her. "He got away."

"And we'll find him," she concluded confidently.

"No we won't. Not unless he wants us to."

For the time being, she ignored him. "You should go home, Castle."

"Don't I have a statement to fill out or something?" he asked. She shrugged and then nodded. He did, but given everything that could certainly wait a few hours. "I'll just go home, shower, make sure my mother and daughter know I'm no longer a fugitive and then I'll see you a bit later."

She bobbed her head in agreement. "Alright, but there's really no rush, Castle."

* * *

By the time Castle arrived back at the twelfth it was nearly eleven. Immediately upon arriving at the loft he was ensnared in a tackle-hug perpetrated by two emotional red-heads. Though he wished to shower, change, and leave again as quickly as possible, they forced him to sit, eat mediocre pancakes and recount his harrowing tale.

For their sake, he left out a few of the scarier points (like Tyson's threat to end his life by way of murder-for-hire), but he told them everything else as it occurred. Naturally, they were very relieved his name had been cleared, yet with Tyson still on the lose they remained concerned. Using that exact concern as an excuse, Castle left the house once more, bound for the precinct.

Two coffee cups in hand, Castle stepped off the elevator on the homicide floor and was met almost immediately with applause. Not one to shy away from praise, he nodded graciously at his quasi-colleagues as they clapped him on the back and whooped in his honor. By the time he reached the main area of the floor, Ryan and Esposito were clapping for him, though their clapping sarcastic (assuming it was even possible for applause to resonate sarcasm, which Castle believed it was.)

"Alright, alright," he sighed, setting the spare cup down on Kate's desk. "I get it; I'm amazing."

"Right, you. Who got all that security camera footage and interviewed the witnesses again?" Esposito asked, irritation evident in his tone.

"Ah, yes, a noble feat, but you didn't Houdini your way out of the back of a police cruiser, did you?" Castle asked with the upward twitch of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, how did you do that, anyway?" Ryan asked.

Castle winked. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Oh, so you're a magician now?" Kate asked when she returned to her desk, overhearing the tail end of their conversation. When she spotted her latte, her eyes brightened and she scooped it up with a smile. Castle was back and he'd brought coffee; her world had been righted once more. "Can you magically make all this paperwork go away?"

"Ah, no," he said, sitting down in the chair beside her desk. "Given everything you guys did for me, this would be a wonderful opportunity for me to offer my assistance, but I believe I'd only make it worse for you."

Kate scrunched up her nose and nodded; he made a very valid point.

* * *

Two hours later, Kate's paperwork had been reduced from thigh-deep to merely knee-deep. After finishing his statement, Castle had left with the promise of bringing back lunch for all of them. Running her hand across her grumbling stomach, Kate silently wished for his speedy return.

Leaning back in her chair with a sigh, Kate stared blankly at her screen. It was over; it was all over. True, Tyson had escaped, but they would find him—eventually. It probably wouldn't be that day or the next, but sooner or later he would screw up. As a cop, it was often difficult for her to let things like that go. With his escape brought the possibility that Tyson could hurt someone again, and of course she didn't want that. But her growth over the past few months had taught her one valuable lesson: it was ok to be human.

Kate and he team had done everything they could to apprehend Tyson, but sometimes the bad guys got away. That, however, did not mean they failed. If anything, they won. Castle was safe; he had not been murdered in prison and that was truly the most important takeaway from the day.

Ten minutes after she turned back to her reports, Castle reappeared with an impressive spread of sandwiches, chips and other snacks, which the homicide crew happily devoured. As he ate, he asked his partner if they had discovered any new leads on their vanishing killer.

"Unfortunately no," Kate said as she blotted her mouth with a napkin. "But we have a BOLO out on him. With any luck something will pop."

"Looks like it already has," Ryan chimed in. He approached Kate's desk and slapped a photo down on it. "Recognize him?"

Though the man in the picture wore sunglasses, a baseball hat and a heavy jacket his identity was unmistakable. "Tyson," Castle exhaled.

Ryan nodded. "This is security footage from JFK. He boarded a plane to Las Vegas first thing this morning."

Castle's chest visibly deflated as Kate said, "I thought we had the name Jerry Tyson flagged."

"We do. He used a different alias—a new alias."

For the next several minutes, the bullpen was a fury of energy as calls were made to the Vegas PD. Despite their desires to catch Tyson when he landed, they were unfortunately too late; Tyson's plane had been on the ground for forty minutes.

"According to security, he's already left the airport, but they're going to continue searching the area for him," Ryan explained when he got off the phone with the TSA agents at McCarran.

As Kate stood to take in the information, she realized her partner was nowhere in sight. Curious, she took a few steps away from her desk until she spotted him, hunched over a table in the break room. She approached the break room entrance and saw that he was staring at his cell phone intently. Her gut clenched and somehow she just knew what he was doing.

Kate circled around to the opposite entrance to the room. The door was open there so she could approach smoothly and hopefully without startling him. Her plan was successful and he did not look up even when she was barely three feet from him. "You'd better book two tickets," she said simply.

He looked up, startled. "What?"

She approached and rested two hands on the table he leaned on. Staring him down, she spoke evenly. "Don't you think I know what you're doing? If you're going to Vegas, I'm going with you."

Embarrassment crossing his face, he placed his phone face-down on the table. He casually slid a hand into his pants pocket. "Kate I'm not-"

"Please." She stopped him, holding out a hand. "I don't know what you expect to find there, but I know you're going to go and I can't stop you. You wouldn't let me go to LA alone last year and I won't let you do this alone either."

For several moments, they held each other's gaze. Kate remembered the moment well. Even though it had been a little less than a year earlier, it felt like a lifetime, given how much had happened between them. She had been angry when he tried to follow her, wanting—no, needing—to do things her way, on her own time, but in the end she could not have been more grateful for his presence there. He was her solid ground; it was only fair that she returned the favor.

When he finally tore his gaze from hers, he began, "Kate, I…" But a full thought never came. Instead, he looked back to her with a nod. "Partners."

She smiled slowly. "Yes, partners."

"Then," he said, picking up his phone once more, "you'd better go home and pack; flight leaves in a few hours."

* * *

_A/N_: I will post another chapter tomorrow for your Christmas present :)


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N - Merry Christmas Eve everyone! I hope everyone who celebrates has a wonderful holiday. As a thank you present to all my readers, here is an extra chapter this week. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Nine**

For Kate, the most difficult part of that afternoon was not escaping the precinct after bribing Esposito and Ryan to finish her paperwork; Gates barely noticed her and her writer cohort slipping into the elevator. No, the hardest part was crossing town at break-neck speed, throwing half a dozen items of clothing in an overnight bag and making it to the airport with Castle for their three p.m. flight.

Only minutes before their scheduled boarding time they arrived at the gate, breathless. With little time to spare, Castle purchased them bottles of water while she visited the restroom. They joined up again at the gate just as the ticketing agents were announcing the first wave of patrons could begin boarding momentarily.

"Ooh that's us," Castle said, picking up her luggage along with his and walking towards the front of the crowd.

"What do you mean 'that's us?'" She repeated, skeptical.

He looked at her as though she was questioning the color of the sky. "First class boards first."

"F-First cla—Castle!" she scolded once she got her bearings. "I was going to reimburse you for my ticket. How much does a last minute first class ticket even cost?" She imagined the number to be well into the four digit mark, which annoyed her greatly.

"There's no need to reimburse me," he said with a simple shrug. "You tried to break me out of police custody; I think the least I can do is buy you a plane ticket."

"Hey! Shh!" she hushed him quickly. The last thing she needed was a curious passenger tweeting something about the infamous Richard Castle and his law-breaking cohort.

"Sorry."

"But seriously. First class wasn't necessary; I mean, it's too expensive." She shook her head as she uncomfortably shifted her feet.

"Did you forget the part where I'm rich?" he responded with an almost laugh. Irritated, she gazed up at him. "Besides, I spent over twenty-four hours with my ass cramped on a metal jail cell bench. I'm sitting in first class and it would have been rude of me to force you to sit in coach. Partners, remember?" He winked at her before stepping forward in line and holding out his cell phone with boarding pass displayed on the screen to the politely smiling ticketing agent.

Once seated on the plane, Kate submitted to the comforts of first class, though somewhat reluctantly. She would have never bothered to purchase a ticket herself as she viewed it to be a waste of money, but if Castle was more than willingly wasting his own money, then who was she to complain about it?

"Ooh Sky Mall; my fav," Castle chortled as he pulled the periodical from the seatback pocket before them. He looked at his seatmate with a grin. "Wanna pick out something for Ryan and Espo? You know, as a thanks-for-not-arresting-me gift?"

With a soft smile, she said, "You go ahead, Castle; I'm going to get some sleep." As a cop, she'd trained her body to sleep when the opportunity arose, thus enabling her to grab some shut-eye just about anywhere. Kate pulled out her NYPD sweatshirt and draped it over her lap like a blanket. Then, without even waiting for the flight attendant to begin the safety presentation, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Forty minutes into the flight Castle had finished Sky Mall and was staring intently at the back of the seat before him. They were going to find Tyson in Las Vegas; he could feel it in his gut and his gut was never wrong. Okay, his gut was occasionally wrong. Well…his gut had been right a few times. Once or twice. But this time—this time his gut was definitely right.

Just as he began to mentally form a plan of action, he noticed a weight against his arm. Glancing to his right he saw that Kate had shifted in her sleep and was now sleeping with her temple resting against his shoulder. Castle smiled softly.

He would have never asked her to come with him, but he was glad she was there. His partner. He had great ideas—and oh, were some of them great—but she knew how to execute them well…and legally. With her at his side, they were bound to be successful; they just had to be.

* * *

"You do realize we're not going to find him, right?" Kate informed him as they disembarked from the plane and began making their way across the Las Vegas airport.

"No, I do not realize that; in fact, I disagree," he countered. "Do you think 3XK accidentally let an airport security camera catch his face on video? No way. There's a reason; he wanted to lure us out here. Well, me at least."

Kate shook her head, slightly perturbed at his delusions. "You can't believe that."

He stopped walking and stared at her pointedly. "Forty-eight hours ago I wouldn't have believed I could be framed for murder and look how that turned out."

Kate could not exactly argue with that point as they continued walking, but she still maintained that she had logics on her side. "Even so, the fact that he traveled to Vegas is the only clue he left us with. This isn't a small city, Castle; he could be anywhere."

"True. We just have to wait for the next clue."

"The next—what?" Kate responded, flabbergasted, but Castle ignored her. Instead, he led the way out to the waiting lines of taxis. After passing his and Kate's baggage to the cabbie for storage in the trunk, he directed the driver to the Aria hotel, where he'd booked a suite from his phone as they made their way to the airport that afternoon.

Their cab ride was short in the early evening traffic. After heartily tipping their driver, Castle carried both bags inside and they waited in line to check in. As they stood quietly, Kate took in the large hanging sculptures in Aria's lobby: bright kites, full of color. They reminded her that spring was coming, albeit a little more slowly in New York than in the desert climate.

"You know I never asked," Castle began softly when they reached the front of the line. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?"

She turned to him with a smile. "Yeah, once—when I was in college, but it was before I was twenty-one."

"Ah," he nodded with a smile. "So you didn't have fun in Vegas."

"Oh we had fun," she said, laughing inwardly at the memories. "We just didn't really gamble…which was alright."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, his head tilting to the side. "You're such a good poker player."

Before Kate could respond, they were called to the next available window to check into their room. When they reached the front of the line and Castle handed over his AmEx black card, the man behind the counter apologized, stating that the only suite remaining was one without a view of the strip. Castle assured the man that was alright; the room was all they required. The man them offered them complimentary beverages and food, but Kate was the one to refuse that time. Truly, they just needed the room.

Key cards in hand, they made their way through the casino floor to the elevators and rode to their suite near the top of the hotel. Castle let them in and Kate took in the view of the elegant sitting area and mini bar. Her companion certainly did know how to pick an impressive hotel.

They each took a turn freshening up in the bathroom before they met back in the main sitting area of their room. After blinking at each other for several moments, Kate was the first to break the silence. "Now what?"

He shrugged. "Want to see a show?"

Kate's jaw fell open. If he was joking, that would have been one thing, but she was certain he was not. "You cannot possibly be serious. We flew five and a half hours and you want to see a show?"

He stepped towards her and explained his reasoning. "Well we have to wait for him to make his move."

Folding her arms over her chest, Kate shook her head. "Castle, you're out of your mind. You're the one who wanted to find Tyson—let's find him. We should at least talk to the Vegas PD."

"Right! The police!" Castle said with great revelation, as though his companion in the suite was not a badge-holding, gun-carrying member of law enforcement herself.

Shaking her head slightly, Kate plunged her keycard into her back pocket and retrieved her cell phone from her jacket. By the time they reached the first floor of the hotel, she'd discovered the address to Vegas PD headquarters. They grabbed a cab in front of the hotel lobby and directed the driver to the appropriate address.

Half an hour later, they had not made much progress. The detective they spoke to was at least aware of the BOLO on Tyson, but he was honest with them and explained his team hadn't had much luck. They merely distributed his photograph to all of their officers as well as casino security and hoped something would show up that night. He took Kate's phone number and promised to call her if Tyson was spotted.

Back out on the sidewalk, Kate phoned Esposito to check in. Though it was late on the east coast, he still answered, but told them as far as he knew no news on Tyson's whereabouts had come in. As it seemed, Tyson was in the wind.

"I'm sorry," Kate told her partner genuinely as they stood outside the Vegas PD headquarters.

"Well, you know…I suppose it was a long shot," he admitted, scuffing the toes of his loafers against the ground.

She understood the frustration of hitting a dead end in a case more than he could, but it was different when the case was a personal one. She was intimately familiar with that feeling as well. "Want me to book the flight home?"

He gazed up at her as though she had suggested bungee jumping off the Stratosphere Hotel. "What? Tonight? I'm sure there isn't anything; we'll just go home tomorrow. Let's just…let's go to dinner—I'm starving. Aren't you starving?"

"Castle," she said warningly.

"What?" The tone of his reply sounded innocent, but somehow Kate just knew it was nothing but. "It's not like we can not eat dinner. I can probably get us a reservation at Le Cirque."

Her jaw dropped and she let out a sound of disbelief. "Castle! You only gave me five minutes to pack—I do not have anything remotely appropriate to wear to Le Cirque! Not that we should even go there," she clarified.

"C'mon Beckett!" He enticed her with his winning smile and wiggling eyebrows. "We're in Vegas, we might as well enjoy it."

Much to her own dismay, she considered his suggestion for a moment before a horrifying thought crossed into her mind. He wouldn't… No, no he wasn't stupid enough for that. Or…was he? He wore that stupid grin that mad her want to slap him and she couldn't help but wonder. "You…" She looked at him, taking a step back. "You planned this didn't you? Was this ever about Tyson?"

Castle held up his hands, immediately defensive. "Whoa what? I planned what?"

Kate gestured wildly. "This. Me. Us."

He laughed. "What did I plan so elaborately, Kate? Getting you to come to Vegas with me? If you recall, you did that voluntarily. Besides, if I just wanted to take you to dinner it would have been a hundred times easier to do it back at home."

Right. That made much more sense. Okay, she owed him an apology; her jump was most definitely to an irrational conclusion. "Right. Sorry."

"So…" He rocked back on his heels and slid his hands into his pants pockets. "Le Cirque?"

Kate groaned. "No, Castle; too fancy. Let's…just get burgers or something."

A bemused smile crossed his face. "Is that what you want? A greasy burger?"

Her expression mirrored his. "Well I don't suppose they have a Remy's here..."

He chuckled at her naïveté. "It's Vegas, Kate; you can have whatever you want." His eyes twinkled at her and he stepped forward. Leaning his face down towards hers he asked in a deep tone, "What do you want, Kate?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

By eight p.m. that evening, they sat across from each other at a cramped table at the Prime Steakhouse in the Bellagio. Despite Kate's insistence that she just wanted a burger, Castle somehow translated that into wanting steak, which led them back to the Bellagio and Prime where Castle—what else?—"knew a guy."

"So it's been a crazy couple days, right?" he asked her after a healthy sip of wine.

Kate shook her head, looking down at her menu. Fortunately, she'd had the sense to throw a pair of black dress pants in her bag. Those coupled with one of her nicer t-shirts almost made her feel as though she was dressed appropriately; almost. At least she was a step above Castle's attire. He only had jeans but, as he explained, when one possessed an AmEx black card, dress codes became _very_ lenient.

"You can say that again. God, Castle." She groaned and rested her chin atop her fist as she gazed at him. "What you must have thought when I put that handcuff key in your pocket…" She had reviewed the scenario in her mind several dozen times in the prior twenty-four hours and she still could not recall what had possessed her other than manic desperation. Because, really, at that point he handcuffs were the least of Castle's worries. They were a cinch compared to the locked police cruiser and two armed escorts.

"Well, I did find it an odd time to be feeling me up but, you know—stress does different things to different people." He winked and much to his great pleasure saw her cheeks turn the slightest bit pink.

They reviewed their menus silently for several minutes before a waiter returned to take their order—and top off their wine glasses. Though she was hesitant at first to over-indulge, Kate realized that after the prior few days, her libations were well deserved. Plus, it wasn't like she was on the clock.

Sensing his partner's still tense expression, Castle swirled his wine glass as he suggested, "Why don't we talk about something completely unrelated to this case—to work at all."

"Okay?" She eyed him curiously.

Castle mused several ideas before choosing the best. "Why don't you tell me about your favorite vacation from childhood?"

Kate protested at first, shaking her head and covering her mouth with her wine glass, but Castle insisted. He knew she must have taken family vacations and he wanted to hear about them. This, he informed her, was because he did not go on vacations as a child and had thus only experienced them through Alexis; he wanted to hear about one from Kate's perspective.

The detective thought for several moments. It was not until after their salads were delivered to the table that she spoke. "Actually…I think probably the one I took with my parents the summer between high school and college was my favorite. I know that's not technically childhood but…but it was the last time I went away with both my parents…with my mom."

Castle nodded. Based on her age, tidbits of her history he'd gathered, and the date of her mother's passing, he deduced that her mother had been murdered during her freshmen year of college. The fact that her final full-family vacation was her favorite broke his heart a little bit, but he still wanted to hear about it. He edged his chair a bit closer to the table and smiled across at her. "Where did you go?"

"Martha's Vineyard; my mom liked it there." Despite it being her mother's favorite, Kate did not recall them traveling there more than one or two times. Then again, with two busy working parents it was not always easy for the Beckett family to vacation. Their casework down time did not always coincide with young Kate's time off from school, but they did their best to take as many family trips as they could.

After her mother's death, Kate tried to soak up as many memories of her as she could. She recalled sitting in her room silently for hours playing videos of her mother in her mind. Remembering that July trip, she could still feel the warmth of the sun on her bare arms and the saltiness of the sea spray as it tickled her cheeks and nose.

Seeing a wistful expression cross her face, Castle asked, "What?"

She met his eye, but only briefly, instead choosing to push some lettuce leaves around her plate. "It's so funny, thinking back to that time now. I was still kind of in my "Rebel Becks" phase and I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend or my friends before I left for California."

Knowing Kate as he knew her now, it was extremely difficult to conceptualize "Rebel Becks" though he would have very much liked to. He hoped one day to hear all her tales. Or, at the very least, see some pictures. "You were way too cool to go away with your parents?"

"Exactly!" she insisted, almost laughing. "And I was so mad for the first day or so of the trip and then-"

Kate's voice cut off and her expression turned sad. How stupid had she been? How foolish? She could have spent so much more time with her mother on that trip. Who cared about the boyfriend she no longer remembered the name of?

Of course, as Dr. Burke often told her, she could not blame herself for that. She did not have a crystal ball. At eighteen, she had no way of knowing she was spending her last summer with her mother, and to feel guilt over that was foolish. It wouldn't bring her mother back and there was no need to let irrational guilt taint her memories.

Plastering as best a smile as she could on her face, Kate took a long sip of wine. "Anyway, it, ah…well, it actually turned out to be a really nice trip."

Castle knew there had to be more to the story, but he didn't press her. In time, if he was lucky, she would tell him; he was willing to wait.

* * *

Not quite two hours later, Kate and Castle exited the Bellagio hotel, their bellies full of steak, Yukon gold potatoes and delicious wine. Kate had to admit that their meal had been thoroughly enjoyable. When Castle stopped acting like a nine-year-old on a sugar rush he was actually pretty good company. Then again, that may have just been the wine, which, much to her chagrin, she drank a bit too much of.

She made her way to the sidewalk in the direction of their hotel, but Castle stopped her before she traveled too far. He insisted since it was nearing the top of the hour they stick around and wait for the Bellagio fountain show. While Kate eyed him skeptically, he whined and insisted she had to see it; she just had to!

When she finally relented, he grabbed her elbow and led her up to the edge of the railing around the lake so they would have the best vantage point. At that time of night the area was fairly crowded, which meant Castle had to nudge his way to the front of the crowd and be a bit pushy about it, but he didn't mind; Kate deserved the best view possible.

Promptly at ten p.m. the soulful sounds of Etta James "At Last" flowed from the speakers. The fountain waters danced in choreographed jets, accented by colorful beams of light. It only took about ten seconds for Kate to become captivated; she leaned over the edge of the railing to get a better view.

As more onlookers arrive, the area became almost uncomfortably crowded, which meant Castle needed to stand even closer to Kate, though he didn't mind that one bit. He ended up directly behind her, his right hand next to hers on one side of the railing, and his left hand resting on the corner post on the opposite side of her.

After just a moment she leaned back with her head on his chest, the top of her head skimming the edge of his chin. Castle was not sure if this move was conscious or not, but he chose not to question it. Instead, he stood and watched the remainder of the water show with Kate tucked neatly against him; he couldn't have been happier.

When the show was over, the crowd dispersed. Castle and Beckett followed the flow of traffic going south on the strip walking so close together that their elbows and shoulders continually bumped together. "Did you like it?" he said into her ear.

She looked up at him with a dopey smile. "It was lovely." The airiness of her own voice surprised her. Maybe she was a little drunk. But, then again, she argued to herself, did it really matter?

When they came to the next street crossing, Castle grabbed on to her hand as they hurried in front of a taxi. The move was a reflex; he'd actually been reaching for her forearm, but somehow grasped her hand instead. The choice to retain her hand in his once they'd made it safely across was, however, completely intentional.

Castle held onto her hand for another block almost stunned she hadn't pulled away, but when he looked down to judge her expression, she didn't seem to notice. She stared at the clusters of onlookers ogling the showgirls and evaded a rather rowdy crowd of college-age kids, but did not drop her hand from Castle's until towards the end of the next block.

There, in a street-level, glass-lined room in the front of the Cosmopolitan hotel was a pop-up wedding chapel. One neon light in the window advertised "Weddings HERE!" Another informed that the location was "Open 'til Midnight!"

Kate's walk progressively slowed until she stopped all together and let her hand drop to her side. She stared in through the glass at the chapel inside. A standard white altar stood at the front of the room while ten rows of four pink frosted chairs followed: two chairs on either side of a white aisle-runner. At that precise moment, an Asian couple in their early twenties recited their vows. They clasped hands, smiling at each other while half a dozen smiling onlookers watched the ceremony attentively.

Though Castle notice the scene inside, his eyes were drawing to Kate. The expression on her face as she stared into the chapel reminded him of Alexis's face the first time she saw her mother, Meredith, dressed up in a fancy ball gown for an evening out: awe, wonder, and a small amount of jealousy.

Then, as the newlyweds shared their first kiss, her expression changed. Her chin dropped towards her chest and her eyes fell almost as though she felt ashamed to look; like she witnessed something forbidden.

"What is it?" he asked her gently.

She glanced back at him, startled, almost as though she had forgotten she was on the busy streets of Las Vegas and not alone in her apartment. Shaking her head gently she assured him, "Nothing; it's nothing."

Castle didn't believe her for a second. "No, what is it?"

Kate's eyes drifted back towards the chapel, where the married couple now hugged each of their guests in turn. "It's just," she began, her voice barely above a whisper and nearly completely drowned out by the traffic sounds surrounding them. "Sometimes…sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be ready for that."

"Marriage?"

She nodded. "Mmhm. I'm afraid I never will be…"

His heart broke at her words. It took great strength (and no small amount of alcohol) for her to make that confession. Save the times she mocked him for his divorces, they never spoke about marriage. This, he supposed, was mainly because marriage fell dangerously close to the other topic they so religiously avoided: the subject of "them."

From all he knew about her, he felt Kate was open to the idea. Many years ago, when they were just getting to know each other, she had famously told him she was a "one and done" type girl. Now that he knew her, this made sense. When Kate made a decision, she _made a decision_ and there was no going back, which meant she was very careful to choose correctly the first time and he had absolute faith in her ability to do this.

Stepping a bit closer, he raised his chest and told her confidently, "You will. I promise you, you will be, Kate." Then, when she looked up at him, her expression still tentative, he added, "We will be."

Her gaze had drifted back towards the chapel, but snapped instantly back to his the moment his words registered. Though it fought several self-preservation instincts within him, Castle did not react; he refused. He held her gaze, steady and calm as ever, for ten more seconds. Then, he blinked slowly, and reached out for her hand. "C'mon; let's go play some blackjack."

Only when he felt Kate's fingers slide into his did he release his breath. _Damn_, he thought to himself. What made him think he could get away with that one? Maybe ordering that second bottle of wine hadn't been such a great idea. Then again…she hadn't responded poorly, even if her responding in any capacity would have gone against their cardinal rule of not talking about anything—ever.

It seemed that any awkwardness he had created vanished by the time they arrived back in the lobby of Aria. Castle excused himself to the concierge desk when they entered and Kate nodded, staying a few feet back. When she overheard him ask if anything had been left for him, she could not help but feel the slightest bit crestfallen.

Castle was searching for a message from Tyson. And here she'd thought he gave that up. She could not understand why he seemed to believe that Tyson would contact them, but she didn't feel like bringing it him; she wouldn't talk about it unless he did. Despite her desire to drop the issue, she turned her back to him and surreptitiously pulled her cell phone from her pocket to check for messages from the Vegas PD; there were none so she quickly returned her phone so he would not spot her checking.

When he returned to her side, he was smiling despite not receiving any mysterious clues. "Blackjack?" Without waiting for her response, he led the way towards the table games. "I really think between the two of us we could really clean up, Beckett. I mean your poker face is great and mine is, of course, excellent." He rubbed his hands together in a villainous sort of way. "This is what years and years of Famous Writers Poker has prepared me for."

As they neared the table games area and Kate noticed just how crowded it was, she slowed her walk significantly. A crowded, smoky blackjack table was not exactly her idea of fun that evening. After her minor breakdown in front of the wedding chapel, she really was not in the mood for being swallowed by a group of noisy people.

When Castle noticed his partner had fallen behind, he stopped and faced her. "Beckett?"

"Ah, you know what, Castle? Why don't you play; I'm going to go back to the room."

"What?" he responded, almost laughing. "Why?"

"I just…honestly, I don't think I'm up for table games right now, but you go ahead."

"No it's alright." He took a few steps towards her. "Want to play in our room?"

"Oh no." she quickly shook her head. "No I don't want to ruin your fun. You can just-"

"Kate." He smiled at her. "It was only going to be fun if I was playing with you. C'mon we'll play a few rounds of our own. Unless—" he paused and looked at her pointedly. "You don't think you can handle that."

_Ugh_. She groaned to herself. He would do that… "I don't think that will be the problem."

Up in their suite, Castle found a brand new pack of playing cards just aching to be opened and shuffled. Kate requested another drink, so he pulled a few small bottles of liquor from the mini bar. After grabbing glasses and ice, he carried all the items to the center of the room, where they could play on a coffee table while they sat on opposite sides of the couch.

"Well," he began as he sat down, ripping the plastic wrapping off the new deck. "I'd suggest strip poker, but I don't think you'd be up for that."

"Really…" she replied with notable sarcasm while dumping the entire bottle of scotch into her glass.

"So how about truth or dare poker instead?"

Kate shook her head. "Never heard of it."

He smiled proudly. "That's 'cause I just made it up. Okay, the rules are: whoever wins the hand gets to ask the other person a truth question or give them a dare."

"Okay… " She spoke slowly as though she were speaking to a small child up to no good. This was not exactly how she pictured spending the evening, but the smooth scotch against her tongue convinced her that it probably wasn't the worst thing they could be doing.

Castle won the first hand they played, not even bothering to hide his proud peacock smile. "Truth," he said to her before taking a sip of his tumbler of whisky. "Are you angry you came out here with me?"

"No," she replied instantly.

He gazed at her with moderate surprise. "Really?"

She chuckled lightly. "I'm not angry, Castle. I was slightly annoyed when I realized you thought you'd be playing a game of Clue with Tyson, but actually it's been okay." She lowered her eyes as she tossed her cards back to him so that he could shuffle. Toeing off her shoes, she pulled her knees up on the couch. "I probably wouldn't have taken any time off myself so I'm kind of glad you made me. Don't tell anyone I said that," she added with an air of danger.

He beamed at her. "Secrets safe with me."

The next round went to Kate. Deciding to mirror his actions, she requested an honest answer from him. "Truth: do you really expect Tyson to send you a message?"

He considered this a moment. "When I came out here, yes; I thought it was part of his cat and mouse game, but now…" He sighed and tossed his remaining cards down onto the couch. Now that he said it aloud it did seem really silly—even for one of his ideas. "I don't know, probably not."

Kate leaned over and placed her hand atop his. "We'll get him, Castle."

The corners of his lips pulled upwards. "I know."

Castle shuffled and dealt but despite his best efforts he was once again unsuccessful. The third round went to Kate, but when he asked her if she would be daring him or asking him for a truth, she responded with a groan.

"Oh I don't know, Castle…"

"C'mon, you gotta pick one or the other. C'mon—that's how the game works." He egged her on, but she simply continued to stare at him, so he narrowed down her choices. "Just dare me to do something—anything."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You mean like jump naked into the Bellagio fountain?"

Castle dropped his chin to his chest. "Don't you think I've spent enough time behind bars in the past forty-eight hours?"

Kate couldn't help but laugh; of course her suggestion had been a joke. For several moments, she watched him before she came up with what she felt would be a reasonable challenge. "Ok; I dare you to stay away from the precinct for a week."

A wounded expression crossed his face. "Ouch, Kate. Really? I thought you liked it when I…when I was…"

"I do." She assured him; the lines on his forehead began to recede as she adjusted her position on the couch so she could sit on her left leg. "I actually want you to do it for you. I think after all this you need more of a break."

Suddenly, Castle felt like an ass. His original intention for the game was to get them to challenge each other to do hilarious, silly, or at the very least embarrassing things, but there she went turning the tables on him and actually suggesting something that was very sweet and thoughtful. Staring across the couch at her, he considered his response carefully. "I think I'd miss you if I was gone a whole week."

_Me too,_ she answered to herself. Picking up her scotch, she sipped and then suggested with her eyes downcast, "Then… maybe that week we could…we could have dinner."

Castle blinked. Had Kate Beckett just asked him out on a date? Was that even possible? She wasn't looking at him, so he couldn't be certain, but he didn't want to risk scaring her off so he chose not to pursue the issue. Instead, he gathered up the cards and began to shuffle once more.

With the cards dealt, Castle fought to hide his ever-growing grin. His hand was fantastic. When Kate presented nothing but a low-value pair, he claimed his victory with no small amount of pride.

A dare rose to the tip of her tongue. Oh, he wanted to challenge her so much. He wanted to force her to let her hair down; let it all hang out, if only for a moment. But he couldn't let it out. Now when she was there, patiently waiting for his challenge. He had within his reach a Kate Beckett truth serum, which was far more valuable than the several seconds of laughter he would get from forcing her to do something foolish.

"Truth: If we hadn't gotten that lead on Tyson—if he was still out there—would you have let me hide out in your apartment?"

Her gaze remained steady as she answered him. "As long as it took to clear your name."

Suddenly feeling parched, Castle took another long swig of his whisky. That time, Kate took the cards from his hands and took over the role of dealer. Castle won again and this time decided not to waste the opportunity.

"I dare you-"

"Hold on," Kate interrupted him. "Aren't you supposed to let me choose truth or dare first?" It had been well over a dozen years since she had played the game popular with girls at sleepovers, but she was fairly certain those were the rules she remembered.

"We're not playing that way," he responded simply. "I dare you…" He let the words hang in the air. He savored them as she looked slightly unnerved. He liked putting her on edge. He would even go so far as to say he lived for it. "…to lose the next two hands."

She pursed her lips at him. "That feels like using one of your three wishes to wish for more wishes."

He merely shrugged. "That's the dare, Beckett; take it or leave it."

Of course she had every intention of leaving it, but the next hand she dealt herself was a poor one, so she ended up losing anyway.

"Truth," he said to her. Then a somewhat panicked expression crossed his face, as though he wasn't entirely sure what to ask her. Thus, he words that ended up coming out of his mouth were quite unwise. "What's your number?"

She sipped her drink. "What number?"

"Your _number_ number."

Her jaw dropped. "Jesus, Castle! I'm definitely not drunk enough to tell you that. Unfair question."

"Okay, okay," he relented. Yeah, that was not one of his brighter moments. He took a moment to collect himself before requesting, "How about…how about you tell me something you've never told me before—something about you." The request was simple and fairly open-ended. She could make it as obscure or as personal as she chose.

Kate remained quiet for a moment, introspective. It was funny, she thought briefly. Over the years he'd learned a lot about her. Some things, she revealed purposely. Most, though, came out unintentionally. As time wore on, she found she didn't mind that he discovered more and more about her layers. Ever since her shooting, she'd been making more of a conscious effort, and she decided to continue that by telling him something she knew he'd enjoy.

"You know the vacation I told you about at dinner?"

"Martha's Vineyard?"

She nodded. "Well, the second day we were sitting on the beach and I was sulking because my Discman was out of battery."

Castle let out a laugh. "Discman"

She shot him a perturbed glance. "It was 1998, Castle."

"I know; I'm sorry—please continue."

She took a deep breath. "Anyway, my mom said, 'Here, read this book I just finished; I think you'll like it.'"

Castle could not help but lean forward in his seat. In his gut, he knew. The soft smile on her face; the way she looked at him. _Please_, he thought, _let it be one of mine_. _Please. Please. _"What book did she give you?"

"_Flowers for Your Grave_," Kate told him proudly; he beamed at her, internally punching the air with joy. "I finished it in two days and she was right—I loved it. We talked about the book and she told me about some of the others you'd written and….and that made it a great vacation."

All he could do was stare at her. In part, his chest swelled with joy. Kate's mother had been a fan of his books. Kate's mother introduced Kate to his books. It was like her gift to them from the great beyond. Yet, on the other hand, his heart shattered for her, because that lovely woman was gone. Kate could no longer call her to chat about the books; she couldn't stop by for coffee or dessert. Perhaps most regrettably, Johanna Beckett would never have the joy of reading about Nikki Heat.

Kate let him stare at her for another moment before she gathered up the cards and silently began to deal. She almost forgot about Castle's dare to her until she found herself with a good hand; a very good hand. A had that would no doubt beat anything he could put down.

She skimmed her right index finger against the top edges of the cards, presenting the perfect poker face to her partner, who grinned a Cheshire cat like grin. He presented three of a kind, but her flush would beat that easily.

"Kate?" he asked when she had not yet presented any cards to him.

"Ah," she dipped her eyes to her deck. "Yeah, I got nothin'." She dropped the cards face down onto the couch and quickly gathered up the discarded cards pile so he could not tell that her hand had actually been better than hers. Truth be told, she was a little bit curious as to what he was going to present her with.

"So what'll it be, Castle? Truth or Dare?"

"Neither."

At his unexpected response, Kate looked up, her brow wrinkling.

Castle tossed his cards aside and scooted towards her so that they were only separated by half a couch cushion. "It's not a truth or a dare, just a request. Marry me, Kate. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Maybe not even next year, but sometime. Tell me there's a future for us."

Kate could only gape at him. For ten seconds she thought she hallucinated the whole thing, but then she looked at him—really looked at him. His azure eyes stared her down, unrelenting. His chest rose and fell at even intervals, though she suspected beneath it his heart hummed at an elevated rate. The feeling in her chest when she looked into his eyes overwhelmed her; overpowered her.

Kate reached for her glass and downed the rest of her scotch in one swallow. She reached for her shoes on the floor and stuffed her feet into them before standing from the couch and walking away from him.

_Damn it_. He cursed himself. What had ever possessed him to say such a thing? Zero to sixty? Try zero to Mach-One. Damn that Jameson for causing him to be so foolish.

He turned and prepped himself to apologize, half expecting to see her disappearing out of the room, but instead found her shrugging on her jacket and pulling her hair out of the collar. When she caught his eye, she put her hand on her hip expectantly. "You commin'?"

Slowly, he stood, not quite sure he understood what was going on. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"Down to that chapel on the strip."

What?

Wait, seriously—what?

Bewildered and a little hazy, he stammered, "W-what?"

She merely blinked at him. "You wanna marry me or not?"


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thank you to everyone for all your reviews after the last chapter!_

* * *

**Eleven**

_"You wanna marry me or not?"_

Of all the sentences he expected to come out of Kate Beckett's mouth that one was not in the top fifty. Hell, it wasn't even in the top one thousand.

Her words hung in the air like a giant billboard from the strip. Bright lights flickered in tantalizing colors. They distracted you, made you want more; made you want whatever they were selling—pushed thoughts of reality away. "C'mon, it'll be great!" they said, but those lights weren't reality.

Reality was the heavy thudding of his heart in his chest. Reality was the airy, buzzing feeling swirling in one ear and out the other. Partly, the alcohol was to blame, but he knew the majority of that feeling came from staring at her, her pink lips, sharp cheekbones and heavy eyes. God damn was she sexy.

Thirty seconds after the words left her lips, reality hit him like a splash of cold water to the face. Whoa—Whoa! What was going on here? This—this was _definitely_ not what he intended.

"Kate," he began, taking one step towards her, "that's not what I-"

"You know why I gave you that handcuff key, Castle?" She approached and stopped a foot from him, her eyes flickering with an air of alcohol-infused recklessness. "Because it was all that I could do. I was helpless. I couldn't do anything other than watch you be sent off to be killed by some hired thug in a crowded prison. And I'm so sick and tired of being helpless."

She began to pace the small space between the entry way and the bar, throwing her hands down at her side. "I want to do something, Castle. I want to leap before I look. And yeah, that's scary, but that's what we do together—scary things. And you know what?" She stopped pacing and looked at him, shaking her head gently. "They're not scary when you're with me. They're not. Because…because somehow you make it all okay. It's always okay when you're there. Always."

The flesh on the back of Castle's neck prickled at her final word. God, was she irresistible when she said those two syllables to him. The alcohol coursing through his veins cursed him for being an idiot. This girl wants to marry you, it said; don't wait for her to change her mind! But he was just sober enough for a few realistic thoughts to slip through. "Look, Kate, I think we're both a little drunk and-"

She crossed the room in an instant, her lips smashing against his. For their first real, not an undercover ruse kiss, it wasn't the most romantic mostly due to the fact that Castle was mid-sentence when her lips descended on his. She took a half step back and enabled them to breathe. A moment later they tried again.

Much better.

Castle's hand skimmed beneath her jaw and pulled her in, his lips devouring hers. She reached up and gripped the base of his neck, pulling him towards her as she parted her lips and skimmed her tongue against his, seeking the entrance they both desperately craved.

An unconscious moan escaped Castle's lips as he pulled her deeper, her body tighter against his. God, he wanted her so much. Kissing her this way after so long—so many months of wanting, the terror of her almost dying in his arms, and the agony of her pushing him away; it was almost too much for him to bear.

A few moments later, they broke apart, both of them breathless. Kate leaned back enough to stare up into her eyes. Her hazel orbs twinkled as she asked him, "Richard Castle do you love me?"

For a moment, he felt as though they were back in the interrogation room at the twelfth. Detective Beckett wanted an answer—a yes or no answer—and an answer she would get.

"Yes"

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes."

A playful, almost bemused smile crossed her lips. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Unable to present a significant argument to the contrary, Castle grabbed his jacket and followed her out the door. By the time they reached the elevator they were both giggling—_giggling_. He was certain he had never before heard Kate Beckett giggle, but he loved every second of it.

The moment the elevator doors closed they were on each other again, lips against lips. They would have been more than happy to stay that way for their entire decent, but two floors below theirs the elevator stopped to let on another couple and they forced themselves apart. Their hands, however, remained joined, fingers intertwined in a way that would have made jigsaw puzzles jealous.

With Castle's arm around Kate's shoulders, they made their way through the lobby and out onto the bustling streets. Just like in Manhattan, at that hour of night the sidewalks were almost equally as crowded as they were in the middle of the afternoon. Unlike Manhattan, these sidewalk occupants were significantly more intoxicated. Feeling a bit tipsy themselves, the soon-to-be-married duo did not even notice.

After searching for several minutes to find the chapel entrance, they managed to find their way with only minutes to spare before midnight. Castle was handed the necessary paperwork, but quickly found it to be a challenge to focus long enough to write out his full name, date of birth, and all the other relevant information. Why did writing have to be so hard, anyway? Oh, right. He did that for a living.

Surprisingly, they were not alone in the chapel. One couple's ceremony was still in progress when they finished their paperwork, so they were forced to stand to the side and wait. When Castle noticed his female companion staring down at her toes, he said gently, "You can still change your mind, you know; we don't have to do this."

She looked up at him, smiling. "No. I don't want to run from this anymore." Traditionally, running was what she did. She could have moonlit as an Olympic track star from how good she was at running, but right then—in that moment—she was putting her foot down. She wouldn't run anymore—at least, not from him; from _them_.

He smiled as he repeated her phrase from earlier. "You want to leap before you look."

"Right. Except…I have looked." She shook her head and let out a light laugh. The concept was almost preposterous. It wasn't as though she was marrying a man she met less than twenty-four hours earlier. She and Castle had worked side by side almost every day for years. What person on the planet knew her better? What person on the planet (save her father) knew her even half as well as Castle did?

"We've been partners for almost four years now. You're…you're my best friend, Castle."

At her sweet sentiments, Castle leaned down and kissed her gently; he felt the same.

Castle stood with his arm around Kate's shoulders as they waited for the couple before them to complete their ceremony. Then, when it was their turn, they were ushered into the chapel room by one of the employees. Had they not been intoxicated on alcohol and each other they would have noticed the woman being a bit short with them. The Castle-Beckett wedding was the last of the evening, after all. As it was, neither of the future-newlyweds took any notice.

The woman who had planned their ceremony in less than five minutes asked Kate if she wished to walk up the aisle to music, but she refused. What was the point? It wasn't as though they had onlookers to gaze at her with awe. Instead, she and Castle walked to the front of the altar together. A foot from it, they stopped, faced one another and joined hands.

Fully feeling the effects of her scotch by that point, Kate grinned her way through their vows. They had chosen traditional, short and sweet words to exchange—emphasis on the short. Kate made no additions to the words she repeated, but Castle did add an extra profession of love to his. They had no rings, but that was ok. Richard Castle would not settle for the cheap ones sold at the chapel; they would visit his jeweler once they were back in NY.

For Castle, the ceremony ended far too soon. He wanted to hold on to that moment, savor it. The exact second when Kate Beckett became his always and forever; he wished it could have lasted a year. Instead, it would be represented only by the photograph taken on the chapel's iPad to be emailed to them at a later date. But that was okay, he decided as they walked out of the chapel at twelve-oh-five; he had the rest of his life to make memories with her.

As they returned to the sidewalk, Kate had the peculiar sensation that they had just rehearsed a very bizarre play. Had that been real? Were they really married? She gazed down at her hand, but found its emptiness perplexing. Without the rings on, it almost didn't feel as real, but his hand in hers felt real. The way he kissed the top of her head as they stalled in a bottleneck of people crossing the street felt real. The warmth of his body next to hers in the elevator back up to their room felt very real.

Four years of sexual tension unraveled the moment they crashed through the doors of their suite. Castle had barely shut and latched the door when Kate was on him, her hands tightly gripping the lapels of his jacket. The force of her kiss pushed him back against the door and he landed with a gentle, "Oof," but Kate didn't notice. He probably could have started singing the Canadian National Anthem in that moment and she still wouldn't have noticed. Her only focus was on getting them horizontal as quickly as possible.

Her jacket joined his blazer on the floor of the entry way before they kissed their way into the sitting area. There, for the first time, their lips separated as Kate bent over to remove her shoes. She roughly insisted her new husband do the same, and he was quick to oblige.

She pounced on his lips once more, but he managed to get out a semi-audible thought. "Which—oh, oh god…which bedroom?"

"Who cares?" she responded. Her hands shot to his belt buckle and she undid it expertly. Using the loosened ends of his belt, she pulled him towards the closest bedroom door.

"Wait, wait," he stopped her just outside. She pulled back and gaped at him, but he merely smiled. "We should at least do something traditional." Before giving her a moment to respond, he slid one arm under her thighs and scooped her up, making sure he was the one to carry her over the threshold of the bedroom. She laughed when he set her down beside the bed.

Before turning back to his lips, Kate focused on the bed, which had far too many comforters and pillows. She yanked most of them away, tossing them haphazardly around the bedroom before she turned back to him, eyeing him like a lioness would a gazelle on the savannah. Castle swallowed hard, honestly uncertain what to expect from her expression.

Kate took a step towards him and pulled open the zipper and button on his pants. The loosened item pooled at his feet, though neither of them looked down. Instead, Kate leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Get on the bed."

He eagerly complied and had just settled on his back when she climbed in after him. She placed one knee on either side of his belly button before settling down against his chest and kissing him soundly. His hands slid up her arms until the came to rest in the center of her back and he could pull her even closer to him.

Castle's hands skimmed down her back as he sighed out her name. When his fingertips reached the flesh exposed between her shirt and pants, he suddenly could not tolerate the level of clothing she still wore. He began to tug at the hem of her shirt, but she sat up a second later. She whipped her shirt off, tossed it across the room and unhooked her bra before Castle's eyes even had a chance to observe one of the adorable moles on her stomach.

With her bra discarded, Castle's eyes widened and his jaw went slack. Had he been drawn into a cartoon, his tongue would have unfurled into a red carpet. Simply put, he was speechless.

"Like what you see, Castle?" she asked breathily before kissing him again.

As a matter of fact, he decided as he rolled them both onto their sides, he did like it; he liked it very much.

* * *

_A/N: So who wants another bonus update for New Years? Anyone? :)_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Thank you for the overwhelming response. How could I not give you the chapter with all those great reviews? :) Happy New Year!_

* * *

**Twelve**

The next morning, Kate awoke and groaned immediately. Her eyes felt like her contacts had turned to sandpaper overnight and her throat didn't feel much better. And god, did her head hurt. Yeah, it had definitely been a while since she'd been this hung over.

Moaning like a sick teenager on the first day of mid-terms, she shuffled her feet beneath the covers only to be startled when they came in contact with something. A warm something. A leg, if she was not mistaken.

Oh.

Oh dear.

Had she and Castle…?

Kate's query was confirmed when she opened her eyes one at a time and saw him staring at her, dopy grin on his face. Oh yeah, they definitely had.

"Morning."

"Morning," she echoed.

"Are you kinda hung over?" he asked. She nodded. "Me too."

Kate's eyes shifted towards the end of the bed then to the bathroom on her right. She definitely needed to get up, but she also needed a plan. On the floor, she spied Castle's button-down shirt; perfect.

Delicately, Kate slid from the bed and dropped into a crouch. She would not insult Castle by asking him to close his eyes, but that didn't mean she needed to flaunt herself in front of him. She pulled on the shirt and buttoned it as she stood.

Whoa.

Okay, she definitely needed to move slower than that.

Several minutes later she returned to the bedroom. Castle watched as she approached the bed, sat down, and pulled the covers across her lap. Her hair was a mess, her was eyeliner smudged, and she looked a little bit shy; he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

"You didn't find Mike Tyson's tiger in that bathroom, did you?"

She let out a light, airy laugh. "No."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure I would have noticed a tiger, Castle."

His grin growing a little wider, Castle pushed himself up so that he supported his weight in right elbow. "So…we got married last night." From his tone, one could have easily interpreted that he also won the five hundred million dollar jackpot in the lottery.

Kate bobbed her head. Yep, that also happened. "We did."

"And…how do we feel about that this morning?"

Kate dropped her eyes to her lap and answered honestly. "I don't know"

She reviewed the prior night in her mind. It wasn't a total blur, though the edges of many of her mental images were hazy. 3XK. Dinner. A fountain. Scotch. Poker. Marriage.

Wedding night.

If anything, all the post-"I do" events layered Kate's regrets. She had been aggressive during sex, as she often was when she had too much to drink. He didn't seem to mind; she recalled him laughing, smiling, moaning out her name…but was he just being polite? She had really taken over, insisting she be the one on top. What if he didn't like that? What if he didn't like her—them? And now…Now, they were married.

Castle sat up slowly, the wrinkles on his forehead increasing exponentially. "You don't know like you regret it? Like you wish you would have looked before you leapt?"

She smiled at the echo of their conversation from the night before. "No." She considered him a moment, the blue eyes so full of light the night before were clouded with worry. If they were going to start a life together they could not start it with a lie, so she had to be honest—one hundred percent honest—even if that honesty made her already touchy stomach want to jump right out of her mouth.

"Honestly, right now…right now I just wish our first time together hadn't been while we were drunk."

"We weren't that drunk. Okay, we were kind of drunk," he corrected at her pointed look. "But what does that matter?"

"Well." Kate picked at the edge of the sheet covering her lap, refusing to meet his eye. God, why did these words have to be so hard to say? "I just though…well maybe…I wasn't…I wasn't sure if you liked it."

Because she had mumbled the last few words, Castle questioned, "What?"

Kate lifted her eyes and repeated loud enough for him to hear. "I wasn't sure if you liked it…me."

Castle let out a breathy noise that clearly indicated nonbelief. In his mind, her words were ludicrous. He pushed himself upright into a sitting positon so he could more easily gaze into her eyes as he spoke. "Kate… You're…you're incredible." Words nearly failed him. Ironic, given his profession, but somehow when it came to her he was always tongue-tied. He cleared his throat to afford himself a moment to collect his thoughts.

"You've always been incredible and after last night you're even more so. Nothing happened last night that I didn't like—love. And you don't have to worry. I don't know that there's anything you could do that would make me think you're not incredible. Except possibly frame me for murder. Then we'd have to see."

When he winked at her, she laughed. Her smile grew and a matching one spread across his face. He leaned over, kissed her forehead, and then slid from bed. Unlike Kate, Castle had no problem strolling across the bedroom in his birthday suit. He didn't even bother to pick up his boxers; he walked right past them and into the bathroom.

Once he was gone, Kate found herself unable to remove the smile from her face. How could he do that? Make her feel so good so easily, so unexpectedly. Even when she was having a dark moment, he could always pull her into the light. _That_ was why she wanted to be with him, wanted to marry him. That inexplicable quality was uniquely Castle's.

"So," Castle said as he exited the bathroom a few minutes later, "breakfast?"

Kate glanced over and noticed he was still naked, which made her shake her head as she bit her lip. "You don't want pants?"

"I need to find out what we're doing first," he informed her. He casually leaned against the doorframe before continuing. "If you want breakfast, I need pants. If you say, 'No, Castle; let's have sex again before we eat,' I don't need pants."

"Wow," was her only response.

He grinned wickedly at her as he wiggled his eyebrows. "So is that a 'yes' to sex?"

She laughed at him; sometimes, his ego was quite boundless. "No, but I'll say yes to breakfast—after a shower…and maybe some Advil." She slid from bed and walked towards the dresser opposite it only to freeze in place. Where the hell was her bag? She definitely had a bag when she arrived but—Oh, right; it was in the other bedroom. The one she originally intended on sleeping in.

Kate turned towards the bedroom exit when Castle stopped her by asking, "Where are you going?"

She gestured dumbly across the room. "My bag is out there."

"Oh; I'll get it." He strolled from the room and returned a minute later, bag in hand. When he saw Kate's skeptical expression he asked, "What?"

"You…you don't even want to put on a towel?"

He eyed her curiously; he had never taken her for a prude. "Do you have a problem with nudity, Kate?"

"No—I'm just confused. I mean…you live with your teenage daughter…"

He clicked his tongue at her. "Do you really think I'd walk around like this at home? Of course not! That's why I'm doing it here." He concluded with a wink.

Kate suppressed an eye roll as she took her bag and thanked him for it. After retrieving her toiletries and a fresh set of undergarments from the bag, she walked into the bathroom. She retrieved the small bottle of painkillers from her travel bag, poured two into her hand and swallowed them instantly. The rest of the items she left on the bathroom counter before making her way to the large tile shower in the room.

Just as the water was beginning to warm up, Kate sensed another presence behind her. She turned to see Castle stepping in the shower. Her brow winkling she asked, "What are you doing?"

He shrugged at her. "Two person shower head."

"Oh I don't think that's a good idea." That was definitely not a good idea. In fact, Kate could only think of reasons why that was a terrible idea.

"What if I promise to keep my hands to myself?" he countered. "C'mon, Mrs. Castle."

Ugh. He was doing that eyebrow wiggling thing at her—the one where he wiggled his brows at an impossibly fast rate. Why did that always make her smile? Every time. Plus, he had called her Mrs. Castle for the first time.

"Fine," she submitted. She unbuttoned the shirt she wore and tossed it out of the shower before stepping beneath the warm spray and letting the water cascade down over her. Yes, this was definitely what she needed to help alleviate the tiny hammers beating against the interior of her skull. Reaching for the hotel provided shampoo Kate squeezed a dollop into her hand and began to lather her scalp.

So consumed by the tension-relieving feeling, Kate momentarily forgot she shared the shower with her new husband. Instead she turned so her back faced the spray and tilted her head back so she could rinse the soap from her hair. Once this task was complete, she opened her eyes and found him gazing at her, hair white with suds.

Only, Castle wasn't just gazing at her, he was staring at her. Starting intently at her like one would stare intently at those mind-bender image puzzles, where staring for a period of time would allow one's mind to process and view a different scene all together. Suddenly, uncomfortable, she desperately fought the urge to cover herself. "You can stop ogling, Castle."

"Wha-" he replied almost startled. "Oh, no. I wasn't it's just… I mean. Last night it was dark and I didn't get to see very well so I…"

"So now you're what? Trying to count my freckles?" she asked, taking a leaf from his book and using a quip to relieve tension.

"No, I just…"

Still confused, Kate looked down at herself and suddenly she knew exactly what he was staring at. He wasn't gaping at her breasts, but what was between them; her bullet scar.

It was quite rare that Kate forgot the existence of the mark that singularly defined the prior nine months of her life. That particular morning, the shock of waking up married to Castle and the agonizing throb of her brain inside her skull took up most of the space typically reserved for thinking about her shooting. Dr. Burke told her to reward herself for thinking of things other than what happened to her that fateful day. Kate found several seconds of amusement in imagining the doctor's reaction to her sudden change in marital status. Then, as Castle took half a step towards her, her attention returned to the man before her.

"May I?" he asked as he lifted his hand gently. She nodded almost imperceptibly. Castle closed the distance between them and brushed his index finger across the raised area. Kate breathed in sharply and Castle snapped his hand back, apologizing.

"No, it's okay," she assured him. "It didn't hurt. It just feels…odd."

Castle returned his index finger to the spot and traced it gently. "So it bothers you then?"

"Sometimes. Mostly when I wake up. After I've been having a-" She stopped herself short of saying the phrase "flashback induced nightmare." "A-a dream or something. So I don't always know if it's psychological or it actually hurts. The other one still pulls sometimes, though. If I raise my arm too quickly the scar tissue will catch, but physical therapy has helped a lot."

The other scar? It took Castle a moment to remember that she had two: one where the bullet entered, and the other the doctors created to fix the damage the shot caused. He used his other hand to search for that spot on the side of her body, just beside her breast and under her armpit. He simultaneously touched both spots and gazed down at her.

Kate stared up at him, unwavering. Castle was the first non-medical professional to touch her scars, but for some reason this didn't bother her. Usually, she viewed hiding her scars a priority. In the male dominated world of police detectives, she needed to show as few weaknesses as possible, and those scars were a gateway to a plethora of weaknesses.

But Castle was different. She didn't mind Castle seeing the scars, touching them with his fingers—his lips. Perhaps that was because those scars weren't just hers, but theirs.

Almost as though he'd been reading her thoughts, he confessed softly, "There's not a day that goes by I don't think about that moment."

She picked up one of his hands in hers and brought it to her lips, kissing her way across each of his knuckles. "I know," she sighed, bringing the back of his hand to rest against her cheek. "Me too."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: This story is now rated 'M'_

* * *

**Thirteen**

Forty five minutes later the newlyweds sat across from each other at a small table waiting for their breakfast to arrive. Castle decided what they both desperately needed was a nice, big, greasy breakfast complete with eggs, hash browns and plenty of bacon. That, he insisted, would be the cure for what was left of their hangovers. It appeared he wasn't the only one with that idea, because the diner was full of several dozen patrons wearing sunglasses and looking more than a little worse for the wear.

"So what do you think Ryan and Esposito are going to think of us?" Castle asked once their food arrived.

"Of us getting married?" she asked; he nodded and she laughed. "Oh, we'll never hear the end of it." Literally never, she thought. For the most part the boys never mentioned anything outright about what was going on between her and Castle. Occasionally, she caught them giving each other looks which led her to believe they spoke about it with each other, but they never said anything to her. The knowledge that they were legally married, however, would surely open the floodgates to teasing and ridicule.

"What will Martha and Alexis think?"

"They'll be thrilled!" Castle assured her with a grin. "Oh, that's right—you have to move into the loft now."

Kate picked up a piece of bacon and held it to her lips. "Well, not tomorrow."

He grin grew wider if that was even possible. "Why not tomorrow? Or this weekend? We can have a big family dinner to celebrate. You should invite your dad."

Kate's eyes widened with momentary horror. Her father—how had she forgotten her father?! He didn't even know how she felt about Castle—not officially, anyway. He would be stunned enough to hear they were in a relationship let alone married. Married. And he'd missed it.

"Kate?" Castle said her name gently when he saw her brow begin to crease.

"Ah, yeah…it's just my dad…"

"What? You don't think he'll be happy?"

A soft smile crossed her face. No, her father was never the chase-unworthy-men-off-with-a-shotgun type. "No. I just…I can't believe I didn't think of him until now."

He grinned a cheeky grin at her. "So I don't have to be worried about him coming after me since I've married and deflowered his daughter?"

Kate let out a laugh. "Um, no. My father is well aware of the fact that I've been deflowered."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Is there a story there?" Her ears turned slightly pink as she looked down at her breakfast plate and mumbled out a no. "Oh there is!" He practically cheered. "There is a story!"

Kate was quick to shake her head. "There's no story."

"Kaaate," he said in a slow, enticing manner. "C'mon, you can tell me—your husband."

She set down her fork and looked at him. "Really, there's not a story. Not much of a story anyway. It was the night after high school graduation-"

"This was during your rebel phase, I assume?" He interjected. She confirmed with a nod before continuing.

"I came home, slightly hung over and with my bright red underpants sticking out of my jacket pocket. I'm pretty sure he saw them…"

"Nice," Castle laughed.

Kate scrunched her nose and turned back to her breakfast. "Yeah, it wasn't one of my finer moments…"

"Perhaps not," he said, casually picking up his coffee cup. "But for the record: all of your moments are pretty damn fine."

* * *

After finishing their breakfast, they made their way downtown to drop off their marriage paperwork. On their way back to the hotel, Castle took Kate on a detour through most of the hotels on the strip. To Kate, after she'd seen one or two, they all started to look the same, but to Castle each one had something unique and he made sure to point it out to her.

During one such venture, they passed an upscale looking jewelry shop. Castle nudged her arm with her elbow and pointed towards it. Like an excited child passing a Toys-R-Us he said, "C'mon Kate; let's go in. Just for fun."

"Castle…"

"C'mon!" he whined. "Just to look—I promise."

"Fine," she grumbled, knowing she would never hear the end of it if she refused.

Save a guard at the door and one employee behind the counter, the store was empty. Thus, when Castle walked in, the employee approached almost immediately. "May I help you, sir?"

"Yes, actually; we're interested in wedding rings." Castle informed the man, slipping his arm around Kate's shoulders.

The man responded with a smile. "Excellent, sir." He led the newlyweds to a brightly lit display counter showing wedding bands in ever size and shape imaginable. Castle peered over the edge of the case and skimmed his gaze across the options.

With his first two marriages, Castle had very little input when it came to the rings. Both Meredith and Gina were very opinionated and vocal about what type and size stone they wanted set in what type of precious metal. Kate, he suspected, would be different. She was undoubtedly opinionated, but not when it came to flashy things like a one carat diamond versus a one-and-a-half carat one. Thus, he felt he needed to be the one to take the upper hand in the decision making process—at least in this particular instance.

"Do you have the engagement ring you'd like to match the band to?" the man asked.

"She, ah, actually doesn't have an engagement ring—yet," Castle pointed out to the man.

"Well I'd be happy to show you our selection of engagement rings, sir, but if you're just interested in the wedding bands right now, it would be best to know if you want a wedding ring and engagement ring that are separate, or if you'd want a set that fits together."

"Hmm," Castle sighed. Then, deciding it was best for her to choose, he turned to his companion. "What do you think?"

Kate stared down at the array of rings, her right hand resting towards her collar bone, fingers splayed out. When, after a minute she had not responded, he spoke her name gently. "Kate?"

"W-what? I, uh, I'm, um…" She stammered with no real words coming out.

Castle gave the jewelry store employee a gracious smile. "Could you give us a second?"

The man nodded. "Of course sir."

When he walked away, Castle rested his hand gently on Kate's shoulder. "Kate, are you okay?"

She nodded her head though her slightly strangled expression spoke to the contrary. "Yeah, yeah I just…I don't really want to do this now."

"That's okay," he assured her. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. Let's just go back to our hotel, okay?"

Kate nodded distantly, but her expression did not ease. In fact, as they made their way back to Aria he could see the lines in her forehead begin to appear and her lips press tighter and tighter together. If he didn't know any better he would have thought fear and regret had begun to seep through her.

Finally, when they had returned to their suite and Kate still had not spoken, Castle knew he had to be the one to breach the silence. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded, but did not speak.

"Do you want to talk about anything?"

She shook her head, still silent.

Resisting the urge to get discouraged, Castle groaned. "C'mon Kate. Please talk to me. Don't do this—don't shut me out."

"I'm not," she responded, her tone defiant.

"You are. It's what you do; it's what you always do."

As she gazed at him her eyes flashed wide. Immediately, her defensive mode kicked in. "It's not—I'm not."

"You are and you do. Do you…God, Kate. Do you not want to be married now?"

She lowered her eyes to the ground. Now that the pounding was gone from her head, reality was setting in and it was all a bit too much. "I don't know."

He fisted his hands together. "Do you want to get it annulled?"

"I don't know."

"Well what do you know Kate?" His response came out a little sharp, but quite frankly he was feeling insulted. All things considered they had a good morning together. Why had walking into a jewelry store suddenly changed all that? Then again, he mused, maybe it hadn't changed; just made everything seem real. Angry at her for continuing to hide behind her walls he blurted out. "Jesus, Kate, do you even love me?"

She took a step back from him when she looked up, pain blazing through her eyes. Her breath came in short, rapid bursts as she spat back her response. "How can you even say that? How…how can you think I would have married you if I didn't? That's…that's why I've been going to therapy. To get better—for you! For you! So…so I could be with you. So…so we-"

"Hey it's okay," he softly cut off her speech. He could see the tears brimming on the edges of her eyelids and he hated himself for that.

Castle stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. She collapsed against him, face pressing into his chest, arms looping around his back. He dropped a kiss onto her head. "I shouldn't have said that—I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

His gut twisted at the thought that he may have done something detrimental to their marriage barely twelve hours after it began, but his worry dissipated when he felt her body relax against his. She sunk against his chest and exhaled deeply. Their bodies fit together so perfectly it was almost scary.

After a few minutes of silence, Castle's brain registered something that she had said. "You…you've been going to therapy?"

She nodded against his chest. "Yeah. Since my shooting. I've…I've had a lot of things to figure out."

He rested his chin against the top of her head and considered this a moment. She had things to figure out—things that related to them according to her earlier confession. If he had to guess, he would have imagined those things related to the walls he knew surrounded her. The walls she told him about the first real conversation they had after her shooting. He wanted to be there for her then and had done his best to try and help her ever since. Perhaps now that they were married she would finally give him the chance.

"Whatever it is, Kate, we can work on it together."

"What if we can't?"

Her tearful response broke his heart. He pressed another kiss to the top of her head and then pulled back, forcing her out of his arms so that he could look into her eyes. "Hey, it's us, right? What can't we work out?"

She shook her head and walked away from him. Her arms tight over her chest she sat down on the couch. A moment later he joined her. She took a deep breath, brushed a few stray tears from her cheeks, and then began to speak. "I wasn't honest with you, Castle."

She took a few moments, readying herself to confess what she'd been hiding from him. The only thing she'd made a true, conscious effort to conceal from him. The thing she likened to Pandora's Box. Once it was out in the open, could they ever be the same again?

Her silence unnerved him. He wanted to be patient, let her tell him in her own time, but he couldn't tolerate the suspense. "What weren't you honest about?"

"I remember. I remember what happened."

"What happened when?"

"When I was shot."

Castle rested his forearms on his thighs and processed this information. "You remember being shot?"

"Yes."

"And what happened after you were shot?"

"Yes."

Oh.

Well.

That certainly was unexpected. If she remembered what happened during and after she was shot then she most definitely remembered what he said to her. Now, suddenly he was beginning to see why she might have lied to him. "So you remember me telling you that I loved you?"

Her voice the quietest yet, she confirmed, "Yes."

His brow furrowing, he shifted his body so he could look at her. "But why, Kate? Why wouldn't you-"

"Because I was scared, Castle!" She blurted out. She stood from the couch and began pacing around the small coffee table. "I was terrified, actually. Because of how high the stakes were already between us. I loved you, I knew it then, but I didn't know how to deal with it, process it. I was afraid I'd hurt you, myself…mess us up somehow. I was trying to figure out how to let go of everything in the past—with my mother's case so that I could figure out how to be in a relationship—a real relationship. With you."

Their history was, to use a Castle term, epic. She knew—she knew right from the start this one would be unlike any of the others. In a way, it excited her; the possibility of finally finding "the one." But in order to discover if she and Castle were truly meant to be together, she would need to open herself up to him completely. In doing so, she would for the first time since her mother's death be opening herself up to pain and vulnerability. Castle could be the greatest love she ever had, but he could also be the biggest heartbreak. Her fear of getting hurt drove most of her desires to hide, even long after she admitted to herself that was no way to live.

"So…naturally we skipped the relationship part and went right to marriage."

Kate could not help but laugh at Castle's all too accurate comment. When he looked up at her, she saw he was smiling as well, so she sat back down on the couch and pressed their lips together. When they broke, their noses and foreheads brushed together and they sat close for several moments.

"Castle," Kate began when she leaned back from him. "I'm ok with what we did. I want to be with you, but I think this is going to be really hard for us. Really hard."

He rested one of his hands on top of her knee. "I'm ok with really hard, Kate; I just want to be with you."

"And I want to be with you too," she said before kissing him again.

Castle stroked her cheek gently with his thumb before he asked her, "Now what?"

"Well…when's our flight?"

"Ten p.m."

She eyed him suspiciously. "I thought you said our flight was today?"

He nodded. "Ten p.m. is today."

She narrowed her gaze. "That's misleading; technically its tonight."

He shrugged. "It was the earliest available."

She considered this for a moment before the perfect idea crossed her mind. Placing her hand over top his she skimmed her fingertips over his flesh. "Then I guess we have plenty of time to kill

He looked up at her, his eyes darkening. "We do. What do you want to do with that time?"

She leaned in close and whispered into his ear, "I want my husband to make love to me."

Kate picked up his hand and used it to pull him to his feet. She led the way into the bedroom, but stopped just beside the bed. She turned to face him and gazed up at him expectantly. This time, she decided, she wouldn't take over; this time she would go at his pace.

Sensing this, Castle stepped in and closed his mouth over hers. He wasted no time in unbuttoning and unzipping her pants, pushing them off her hips until they landed on the floor with a light thump. He also broke their lips apart just long enough to pull her shirt up and over her head, but that was the extent to which he undressed her for that moment.

Using his hands on her waist, he guided her back towards the bed. She sat and lay back, pulling him down with her with her hands fisting the front of his shirt. Once they settled into a side by side position, Castle's hand began to roam. First, up and down her bare side, over her forearms and elbows, and then finally across her breast, caressing her nipple atop the thin fabric.

Kate breathed in with a sharp his and rubbed her thighs together. Castle realized from these actions that he was already driving her crazy; perfect.

He took his time lavishing every inch of her neck and throat with the delicate caress of his lips. When he felt her hands grip the hair at the base of his neck a bit harder, he reached beneath her, expertly unclasped her bra, and pulled the item from her body.

Moving his lips southward, Castle took great care to kiss his way down her right breast. He dragged his tongue around the rosy tip several times before capturing it between his lips and sucking with just the right amount of pressure. When his hand skimmed down her torso and landed between her legs she breathily moaned out his first name. It was then he realized he still wore far too much clothing.

Castle pulled himself away from her only long enough to shed all of his clothing as quickly as he could. After nearly tripping in his haste to step out of his boxers, he rejoined her, making sure to give her left breast equal attention before skimming his hands southward. He hooked her panties with both his index fingers and slid them off her body when she lifted her hips to assist him.

He took a moment to gaze down at her completely naked—and perfectly lovely—body before lowering his face towards the juncture in her legs. Before he could get to close, though, she stopped him by gripping his forearm. When he looked up at her, she shook her head gently.

When his brow wrinkled curiously at her, she sat up and pulled him into a slow, sexy kiss. Then, using her arms around his neck, she pulled him down on top of her. As fantastic as she imagined his mouth on her would be, that wasn't what she wanted; she didn't want to wait another second for him to be inside her.

While she bent her knees and rested her feet flat, Castle settled in between her legs and used one hand to guide himself while the other supported his weight. When they joined together, he buried his face against her throat as he moaned out her name. How was it even possible that she felt better than she had the night before?

As their hips rocked together, she wrapped her arms around him and then brought her heels up to lock behind his back, forcing him even deeper. They kissed and sighed out each other's names until they finally crested their waves together and collapsed in a heap of limbs against the sheets.

* * *

_A/N: To give you guys a heads up: the last chapter will be posted Tuesday with the epilogue to follow on Thursday. _


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: I apologize for the delay in posting this; we had a snow storm yesterday and with all the clean up i forgot about you guys! This is the final chapter; epilogue will be up tomorrow. _

* * *

**Fourteen**

Hours later, Kate and Castle lay together in bed, lazily dozing. Kate rested her head on his broad shoulder while tracing lazy lines against his chest and stomach with her fingertips. Castle lay with one arm behind his head and the other around her, stroking her arm sporadically.

When Kate noticed him repositioning his legs she realized he was awake and said gently, "You know what I was thinking?"

"Hmm?"

"It's not…it's not weird."

"What's not?"

She lifted her head and turned it so she could look at him. "Us, like this."

Their transition from partners to lovers had been so seamless it hardly felt like a transition at all. One moment they sat side by side; partners who rarely if ever crossed the touch barrier between them. The next moment they were kissing and caressing, hands everywhere as they made love. Yet, both versions seemed natural to her.

Castle considered this a moment. "Isn't that because in many ways we were already together in every sense but the physical? I mean, I haven't been with anyone since-" Castle stopped himself short of confessing that truth and instead said, "Well, it's been a while."

"How long?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"No, Castle. " She pushed herself upright so she could look down at him. "I want to know. Please," she added when he gazed at her cautiously.

They had a several second stare-off before he relented. "I…I guess a little more than a year."

Kate reviewed the prior year's timeframe in her mind. "Since…since you broke up with Gina?" she deduced; he nodded in confirmation.

Stupid. She felt stupid. All that time he'd been waiting for her—waiting for her to be ready because he already was. And she… She had been with Josh. Hiding behind her relationship with Josh. Using it as an excuse that no one—least of all herself—believed.

The old, pre-therapy Kate Beckett would have shrank away and hidden with this knowledge, letting it consume her. Allowing herself to fill with self-loathing and retreat. But the Kate Beckett she was at present—the one who had been enlightened by therapy to let things go, pushed these notions in her mind. Her relationship with Josh was over and it was in the past. She couldn't go back and change or undo any of it. She could, however, move forward with the lessons those choices taught her.

Kate leaned down and pressed her lips to Castle's. Pulling back she said, "I haven't been with anyone since I've been shot."

He smiled at her and pulled her down against him. At first, their kisses were gentle, leisurely. Then, slowly, the heat began to build. Kate rolled over onto her back and pulled Castle with her. Just as her hands began to skim down his body, he pulled back and looked at her with complete awe.

"What?" she asked gently.

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's just… part of me can hardly believe this is happening." He brought his hand up to stroke her cheek, his thumb skimming across every inch. He brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen cross her eyes and held firmly to her face. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Her words made Castle's heart soar, the feeling in his chest unlike any other he'd had before. The only notion in his mind was making sure that she felt exactly the same as he did in that exact moment. So he kissed her, hard and deep. He peppered kisses all the way down her jaw, throat and collar bone. His lips traveled across her scar, between her breasts, down past her belly button and finally to the crest of her hipbones.

There, he paused to look up and meet her gaze. She smiled at him. She looked excited. She looked…happy. And, he thought cheekily to himself, she was about to get much happier.

* * *

After spending the majority of their afternoon in bed, Kate and Castle grabbed an early dinner before heading to the airport to catch their flight. During their meal, cab right to the airport, and even during their trip through airport security they could hardly keep their hands off each other. If their fingers weren't intertwined, they touched another part of each other: an arm, a knee, or someplace a bit more intimate (only if no one was looking). They exchanged stupid, dopey grins that made the other person laugh, but they didn't care; they were idiots in love ready to let it all hang out.

As they waited for their flight, an elderly couple, presumably noticing their nauseating actions towards one another, asked if they were newlyweds. Kate confirmed that they were and Castle thanked the couple when they offered congratulations.

After a less than pleasant, turbulence-filled ride home, Kate and Castle arrived in the city shortly after six in the morning. Despite being exhausted, Castle insisted on stopping for breakfast on their way back to his loft. He explained simply wanted one more meal with his wife when he had her all to himself—before they revealed their secret marriage to their friends and family. Kate couldn't argue with his logic so she agreed and it turned out to be a good decision; the waffles were delicious.

During their travels, they agreed to return to the loft first to hopefully catch Castle's mother and daughter and tell them the good news. Then, they would hopefully meet up with Kate's father to tell him the news. And finally they would tell Ryan, Esposito, and Lanie. For the time being, that group completed their notifications list, as they decided not to flaunt their marriage too much while it was still new and they were adjusting to it.

Hand-in-hand they arrived at the loft and nearly ran smack in to Martha as she was on her way out the door. "Oh my goodness!" She proclaimed, pulling them both into a hug. "Thank god you two are back. You didn't have a run-in with that crazy killer man, did you?"

"No, Mother," Castle said. They had also had a heart-to-heart about the Tyson situation. Castle agreed to let it go for the time being since, as Kate said, they would find the bastard, but they could not let him control their lives. "But we, uh," he glanced over at Kate with a silly grin, "we do have something to tell you. Is Alexis here?"

"Oh, no you just missed her," Martha said. "She needed to get to school early for some meeting or something."

"Oh," Kate said in a slightly downtrodden tone. She had been quite amped up to reveal their marriage to Castle's family; this was a bit of a letdown.

"Oh…well…I guess we should wait then." Castle sighed, stuffing his hand down into his pocket.

"Wait for what? Richard, what are you up to?" his mother demanded of him.

"Nothing, Mother. We just…we wanted to tell you and Alexis together."

"Tell us what?" she asked. "You know I cannot stand suspense!"

"Well," he began, gazing at his bride. She nodded, agreeing that it was only fair to tell Martha since they had practically teased her with it. "Well, uh…see, Kate and I…well, we got married in Vegas."

"M-Married!" Martha stammered, looking back and forth between the two smiling individuals before her.

"Yeah…uh, surprise!" Kate added with a silly laugh.

"Oh my goodness…well, this—this certainly is a surprise!" Martha said, clutching her hands to her chest.

Kate felt her cheeks grow hot. "You're not upset, are you?"

Martha softened her expression and pulled the younger woman into a hug. "My heavens no! Surprised—well, stunned more like it, but never upset. This is wonderful news! You two are clearly meant to be together."

Kate laughed gently as she reciprocated the hug. "Thanks, Martha."

"But what a shame you missed Alexis. Ah, well, this will be her surprise when she gets home from school."

"Yes, we want to have dinner to celebrate," Castle added.

With that, Martha hugged them and offered her congratulations once more. Then, she hurried off, insisting that her acting students would be terribly depressed if they had to wait one more extra minute for her arrival. Kate and Castle exchanged amused looks once she had gone.

"So…calling your father next?" he asked.

"Ah…" Kate glanced at the clock on her phone. "I think he has a class right now but-"

She was interrupted by the ringing of Castle's cell phone. He dipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved the device. "Ah, it's my lawyer; better take it."

He turned and took a few steps from her to answer the call.

"Mr. Castle," the lawyer began, "I'm calling in regard to your recent wedding in Las Vegas."

"Ah yes." Castle turned and smiled at his companion. "Did you get all the paperwork you needed?"

"That's the reason I'm calling, you see."

His brow furrowed. "Oh ok. Hold on, let me put you on speaker so my wife can hear as well." Castle pulled the phone away from his ear, momentarily ignoring the way the word "wife" on his lips caused his heart to flutter. His lawyer's tone seemed atypically serious and that concerned him slightly.

Kate approached with a curious look and they stared down at the phone together when Castle said, "Go ahead."

"Mr. Castle, I'm sorry to tell you that Nevada was unable to process your marriage license because you failed to provide adequate proof of divorce at the time of filing."

Castle felt his throat thicken as he met Kate's wide-eyed gaze. Okay, so impromptu weddings in Sin City were romantic, but not necessarily practical. "Well, can't we send it today? We could email or fax-"

"No, they've already denied your license."

"So…what does that mean?"

"It means that your Nevada marriage is void."

Castle felt his heart sink down past his belly button. Staring into Kate's eyes, he asked sadly, "We're not actually married?"

"No, not legally. I'm sorry, Mr. Castle. Please let me know if I can be of any more assistance."

Castle mumbled a goodbye to the lawyer and then returned his phone to his pocket. Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Sick, he felt sick. And heartbroken. And a little angry at himself. "Kate…I'm so sorry." He sighed into the top of her head.

She squeezed her arms around his back before looking up at him. "No, no it's not your fault. I mean, neither of us was really thinking a hundred percent clearly at the time."

"So…I guess we're not married."

She gave him a sad little smile. "I guess we're not."

He skimmed his hands down her arms until he reached her wrists, giving them both a squeeze. "What do you want to do?"

Her brow arched. "What do you mean?"

"I mean—what do you want to do about this? How do you want to fix it? We can get married tomorrow. Here in New York with my family and yours—and the correct paperwork. Or we can wait. We can do whatever you want."

She smiled slowly. He always seemed so focused on her, and that was very sweet, but they were partners and needed to be weighted equally in any relationship. "What I want? What do you want, Castle?"

He brought his right hand up to cup her face. "You, Kate. I just want you. And I want you to be happy."

Kate felt a few tingles at the base of her neck and in her chest at his words, and the loving gaze he gave her. She turned her head enough to kiss his palm and then said. "Honestly? I think we should wait a little bit. Maybe…maybe this is a blessing in disguise."

She was alright with the fact that they had gotten married. If that marriage had been legal, she would have been more than happy to face each day as Castle's wife: for better or worse. But, as it was not legal, she could not help but think it was for the best. She still had issues she needed to work out, and the stress of living together plus all the other nuances of married life would be a struggle for her.

Castle could not help but nod in agreement. He wanted to marry her, there was no doubt about it, but he also wanted her to be comfortable with the situation. Better yet, he wanted her to _want_ to be his wife—not just be stuck with being his wife. Still, he needed to make sure one thing was very clear. "But we are together, right?"

Kate couldn't help but chuckle at how very concerned he sounded. "Of course, Castle."

He slid his hands down to her waist and pulled her hips against his. "Might I be so bold to say we're engaged?"

Chewing on her bottom lip, Kate thought about this for a moment. "I don't think that would be too big of an assumption, but Castle I don't want us to jump right into anything. I want us to enjoy the beginning stages of a relationship together before we have a huge wedding."

Bemused, he asked, "Is that what you want? A huge wedding?"

She cringed. "No, not exactly. Well maybe, I don't know. I don't know… I—I never really thought about it. Oh my god," she laughed. The realization was washing over her like a sunrise bathing light over the land. "I think it's really just hitting me that we got married. We got married!"

"Well, not technically," he corrected her.

"Right…but we intended to." _Oh my god! Oh my god!_ She thought to herself. What had she been thinking? She _hadn't_ been thinking and that was so unlike her!

Castle took a step back from her. "So…no to the engagement?"

Realizing she was hurting his feelings, she quickly swooped in and pressed a kiss to his lips. "No, actually…no let's stick with the engagement. I'm ok with everyone knowing I have intentions to marry you one day, because I do."

Castle placed his hand upon his chest and said dramatically. "And _I do_."

Realizing he was pretending to be saying wedding vows, Kate groaned. "Ugh. Castle."

He laughed. "What?"

"You're so…"

"Amazing? Talented? Ruggedly handsome?" he offered with a cheeky grin.

She "hmmp-ed" to herself and looked up at him, slowly shaking her head. "Annoying. Frustrating. Completely and totally-"

He cut her off by smashing his lips against hers and giving her a kiss so passionate she almost forgot to support her own weight. Nearly hanging in his arms, breathless, she looked up and gently touched his face. "Incredible."


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

Upon waking up, Richard Castle groaned, yawned, and stretched out his limbs. Still fighting sleep, he rolled his head towards the center of the bed and opened his eyes; the other half of the bed was empty. This was not unusual; his wife often woke before him. Castle skimmed his hands across the space she left vacant. Odd. The sheets were cool, which meant she had been out of bed for some time.

Castle sat up slowly. Typically, if Kate awoke before him she went straight for the coffee pot. As he viewed the dark liquid to be one of the major food groups, Castle could typically not stay sleeping too much longer after the dark-roasted aroma hit his nostrils. He sniffed. He sniffed again. No coffee.

Curious, he pulled on his robe and shuffled from bed. The cool hardwood floor of the Hamptons estate caressed his toes as he shuffled across the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen area. There, he saw her, leaning against the counter with her iPad in front of her, presumably reading the morning news. He turned towards the coffee pot; it was off.

Yawning once more and rubbing one of his eyes, he walked up behind her, slid his hands around her waist and collapsed down onto her, using her shoulder as a new pillow. She chuckled. "Morning."

"Morning," he echoed. "Sleep well?"

"Mmmhmm."

They had come to the beach estate despite the blustery chilly weather outside to celebrate their first wedding anniversary. True, it was not technically their anniversary since their Vegas marriage had not been legal. Their true anniversary was in August.

Though Kate had insisted to Castle that she wanted to take their relationship slow she quickly saw what he had seen all along: what was the point in waiting? They were meant to be together; always. Thus, they had a simple ceremony with only fifty close family and friends before the end of summer that year.

It was Kate who suggested they celebrate both anniversaries—at least, the first year. Besides, there was still reason to celebrate their time in Vegas. Their first real kiss had happened there (among other firsts.)

Castle yawned against the base of Kate's neck. "Where's the coffee?"

"Ah," she said, spinning in his arms. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that. You know how much I love it when you bring me coffee, right? But…well, you're not going to be able to do that anymore."

Still sleepy, his response came out only as a, "Huh?"

"Well," she smiled slowly. "At least…not for nine months."

She knew he was sleepy and void of caffeine, but she hoped he would catch her implication anyhow.

For a moment, thoroughly confused, his eyes searched hers. Then he noticed the delicate smile playing on her lips and the phrase "nine months" hit him like a vat of coffee dumped on his head. "Oh! Oh are—are you—oh my god, Kate are you-"

Kate's heart lifted at the joy she saw on his face. She confirmed with a nod and was immediately pulled off her feet and into a bone-crushing hug. She laughed and hugged him back, kissing the side of his face.

"Oh my god, Kate! Oh my god! Oh my god!"

She laughed when he set her down. "Is that all you can say, writer boy?"

"I…I'm just…h-how? When?" he stammered barely able to reign in his excitement.

"Well I think you can figure out the "how" part for yourself," she told him with a wink. "As for when, I'm not sure. My period should have started last Monday and when it didn't I…I just had a feeling, so I took the test yesterday before we left and it was positive. I know we weren't really trying and we didn't think we would until later in summer but-"

"Kate," he exhaled out, bringing his hands up to cradle her face. He gazed down at her as though he had just discovered the most exquisite gem in all the world. "I am, so, so happy about this. I love you so much."

"I love you, too"

He gave her a sound kiss before pulling her into another hug. "A baby; we're going to have a baby." Laughing to himself he squeezed his wife tightly and rocked her back and forth; he couldn't have been happier.

* * *

_A/N: First and foremost: Thank you all so very much for reading. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and review!_

_As I said in the opening chapter, I had two premises for this story. One, "Probable Cause" in S4 and Two, Castle &amp; Beckett getting married in Vegas. In my head, this was in lieu of Beckett marrying Rogan O'Leary in Vegas, however the way I have written it, it would still fit with the canon story line. _

_What's next? Well, a lot, actually. I have a very long, 26 chapter story called **Castle &amp; Beckett: Homicide** and it's based on the premise that Castle was a homicide detective instead of a writer and he was assigned to be Beckett's partner by the NYPD. Since that's so long, I'm going to wait to post it until the few week spring hiatus we usually get before the end of the TV show season. But I won't leave you empty handed! I have a few little 2 &amp; 4 part stories that I will post here and on Tumblr in the next few weeks. _

_Thanks again!_


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